I once called a good friend who was in the middle of a meltdown. Well, it may have been my fault after all, I did call her while she was in the middle of cleaning and I think with a fresh ear, she decided to sound off.  I listened to her rant about how all she ever seemed to be doing was clean; husband, kids, dog, her place was constantly messy.

I, sitting in my slightly clean, one bedroom flat on my own, shrugged my shoulders and ‘uh huh’d’ whenever appropriate.

I sooooooo get her now. We still have our differences – she complained about having to do it ALL on her own. I don’t. Burs cooks, I clean. We’re a team (dear god, can’t believe I’m saying things like that). But the thing is that, no matter how much you clean there is always more. And, did you know it has to be done EVERY DAY?!?

See when you live, the way I once did which was on my own, the amount of items that would get dirty were limited. If I cooked dinner – it be A pot, A dish, A fork and A cup – that is all. I’d wash the 4 items and be done. Laundry. Living in a world where you have to walk down three flights of stairs and then five blocks to get to the laundry mat makes you analyze your dirty cloths closely. I had accumulated two and a half months worth of underwear (being that is was easier to buy new ones then wash the old), I’d sleep on the same sheets for, I’m a smidge embarrassed to say, more than a month and everything had to under go the sniff test. I’d hold off the long journey as long as I could and my record was nearly three months. (I had even been known to pack up laundry and fly to my parents house to do it since it was free and easier too.)

I’m no longer a party of one. There are two more people in my life now which means there’s a lot more stuff. Dinner is no longer the simple act of boiling pasta. And even when we do it never seems as easy as it did way back when. It isn’t 4 items but 10. Wait no 13 (I no longer think its appropriate to use my fingers to scoop up the last bits on the plate).

Then there’s laundry. The never emptying hamper basket. I think it regenerates by itself. Luckily, the washer is in house and I can do it as I dance around in my knickers whiling eating the leftover blueberry crumble Burs made yesterday for dessert. And as I write this, staring at my freshly cleaned space (my mom would be proud, seriously, you can eat off this floor) I smile and am a little bit thrilled that I’ll be doing this again.

I know, I know…crazy talk!

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