Friday, January 29, 2010

I hate bathing.

Hate it. It is such a waste of time. I'm like a 7 year old boy when it comes to getting me to clean myself. I need to plan ahead for it, psych myself up, set aside some time that I'm not going to get involved in anything else, and just DO IT. If I ever get really rich I am going to pay some old blind lady to bathe me, or construct some sort of car wash type contraption in my bathroom to get the job done quickly.
I also hate emptying the dish rack. I will pile that fucker so full of dishes that one wrong brush against an outlying saucer will send the whole damn thing screaming to the floor. And the silverware - oh the silverware. I haven't emptied that part in months. Why bother? It's like making your bed.
Which leads me to making the bed. I do like the bed neat and the sheets tucked in at the bottom before I get in it, but when I get up in the morning I don't look back man, I'm off. No time to fuck around in the bedroom. Which may be why my bedroom looks like a 7 year old boy's bedroom. Hmmm. Noticing a pattern here. Anyway, yeah - the bed making. Someday maybe I'll be one of those people who gets up in the morning before somebody is crying (that somebody could be me or one of the kids - never can tell) and can take the time to make the bed, get dressed WHETHER OR NOT I'M LEAVING THE HOUSE, (oh remind me to talk about jeans and their place in the home - or lack thereof) eat breakfast like a grownup - you know, be a productive member of society instead of somebody who drifts from one pair of pajamas to the next, somebody who realizes on Thursday that she hasn't left the house since Sunday and is really okay with that other than a vague feeling of unease, somebody - and this is the bottom line here folks - who wears underwear every day. (I don't wear squirrely covers to bed, so typically I'm going commando b/c I'm almost always dressed in what I rolled out of bed wearing and jeez isn't my husband a lucky man)
I'm not as bad as I seem. If you bumped into me on the street (fat chance of that!) I'd be sweet-smelling and well dressed(ish). I just don't like doing boring things.
And I don't ever - EVER - wear jeans in the house. They are reserved strictly for leaving the comfort of my home. I do not understand people who can hang out at home in a pair of jeans, how is that comfortable? And don't get me started on wearing shoes around the house. That is just wrong and un-American.

1 comment:

Nikki said...

I love this post. I'm SO just like you. Except the jeans in the house part. I've managed to break in a pair or two that are nearly as comfortable as sweats.

I'm glad to know there's someone out there who also feels showering daily is a waste of time. That's what deodorant is for. God!