Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Housework... Or As I Know It: My Personal Hell

I hate housework, people. It seems, too, that the more housework I'm require to do, the angrier I get. If I go insane one day and kill someone, you can bet housework cocked that pistol. Picture it:  It's 10 minutes until people are expected  to be over...I'm attempting to flight of the bumblebee the living room...There's a knock at the door...I snap...Poor Jehovah's Witness never saw it coming... My children now recognize the signs mom is getting close to a melt down.. I can hear them talking, "No..It's okay...She's just loading the dishwasher...wait... Is that the vaccuum?! We better run!"

This isn't something I'm proud of. How I wish that I were one of the many personality types that got gratification out of cleaning. My husband gets personal satisfaction from helping to provide basic needs. My personal satisfaction comes from being appreciated... Which housework isn't the best helper in that.. Usually people say nothing..unless you didn't do it. Side note:  If you want to become more "self aware" google the meyers briggs jung personality sorter and take the free test. It's what psychologists agree is THE personality test.It will give you four letters.. for example: I am an ENFP... Also...once you've done that, go to "portrait of an _ _ _ _." and learn all about you!

I have found that housework is an inevitable part of life. After you use all the dishes, It starts to get expensive to replace them. I tried using only paper plates for a while... It was less  than classy.
I hear the faint whispers of  'clean me' from the kitchen...I suppose I'll go do it.. But know, I'd rather stay here and talk to you happy, peppy people.

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