i think that good wives probably work all day (either outside the home, or in), cook dinner for their family, clean up after their family, do the laundry when it needs to be done, clean the entire house, etc.. and they probably do it with a smile- and without complaints.
which is why i'm obviously not a good wife. because this shit pisses me off. i get so annoyed and so frustrated when i get home from work after 7 o'clock at night and find the house a freaking disaster area. i get so mad when i walk into the kitchen and the level of filth in it disgusts me. (seriously, how hard is it to wipe off a fucking countertop??? apparently, it's totally.fucking. difficult) so i clean. and then i'm pissed off that i'm cleaning. because the entire time i'm wondering why the hell I'M the one who is doing the scrubbing when i literally JUST WALKED THROUGH THE DAMN DOOR. and listen, i've posted about all of this before. how boyfriend just sees things differently than i do. i see disgusting filth, and he doesn't even notice. but where is the compromise? i let the filth sit and don't demand that it get cleaned up RIGHT NOW, but it's not like he will ever clean it. he'll let it sit there... forever.... until it becomes something that can probably live and breathe and take over the whole house.
i have tried to protest in my own mind. you know, i tell myself that i'm not cleaning. i'm not wiping the coffee stains off the counter anymore. i'm not wiping the grease and grime off of the stove from his dinner the other night. i'll just let everything sit there and he'll be so disgusted that he'll have to clean at some point. but that point never seems to come. so when i finally do breakdown and clean, i'm all pissy about it.
so mind protesting doesn't work. because in the end it solves nothing. hmph.
the best part? boyfriend wants love, affection and praise when he puts the dishes away and takes the trash out. like, aren't i the best husband in the world and isn't your life that much more awesome because i took the trash out without you having to ask me too? and part of me is thankful that he did those things and does think he's totally awesome for it, but the other part of me is like "are you fucking kidding me? so what? you put the dishes away and you want a fucking medal? what about everything i do, every single day??? where's my fucking medal? where's my praise? where's my break????"
and i think that's what it's really all about. it's not about the number of times i put away the dishes versus the number of times he does. it's not about how many times i have to shut the fucking cupboard doors after he opens them because apparently he just can't seem to do it. it's not about the fact that if i don't vacuum or dust, no one ever will. it's about the fact that it never seems to be my turn for a break. i'm tired of walking through the door to a house that just has shit everywhere. papers all over, etc. it makes me hate the house. i hate things that are messy, ugly and fucking disgusting and that's what our house is. i just don't want to be the one who has to work this hard at work, and then work this hard at home. where's my relaxation? when is it my turn to sit on the couch for hours at a time and do nothing? where is my break while the house magically cleans itself?????
that's why we need a fucking housekeeper. i'm serious. i want a housekeeper that comes twice a month. (i wish i had a cook, a maid and a landscaper too, but let's not go overboard). i think a housekeeper is the key to my sanity here folks. not to mention boyfriends happiness. cause we all know when mama's happy, the family is happy. and right now mama's a pissy bitch.