Still trying to finish off stuff at work, and I’ve gots to get going because I am kicking off my vacation week with a massage and pedi this afternoon. Which is much needed after I busted my ass cleaning the house yesterday pending my parents arrival. I still will have a bit more to do when I get home (swiffering floor, wiping down kitchen, and putting away laundry), but I will be so relaxed that it will almost be FUN, I’m sure!
Ugh. I freaking hate cleaning. It puts me in a cranky mood, and then Miguel’s all like “Why are you cranky?” as he watches me wield the toilet brush. How about you scrub out gross toilets and the fucking shower stall once in a while and see if you feel like whistling zipadeedoda while you do it? And then he gets all wounded, all “I make the bed every day.” So not the SAME thing! Ugh. I will give him credit, he does pickup after himself well and usually dusts and runs the vacuum and he does all the man chores with the lawn mowing and garbage taking out, but somehow, he hardly ever does the crappy parts; that’s all me. And I just get fed up. BUT, it’s totally a lose-lose situation complaining about it, because I don’t really trust him to do a good job on the scrubby scrubby cleaning any way. He tends to fail to notice things like the 1/4 inch film of hairspray on the sink as long as he has wiped over it once and it’s not dirty looking. Blech.