Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Staying "Caught Up"



I am not the world's best housewife. I'm supportive and loving (usually - hopefully hubby would agree) but I'm really bad at housekeeping. Take for instance the fact that I'm blogging when I could be cleaning. There's a prime example.

I don't know how people with children do it. All I have is one husband and one cat and I feel like I can never stay on top of the housework. I have a pile of clothing next to my bed that has to go. Every day I look at it and tell myself I'm going to grab some trash bags and sort out what is wearable and what needs to go to Good Will. I think I've been telling myself that since at least August. We won't even talk about my kitchen.

Then there's cooking. I also hate to cook. When my husband asks me what we're going to have for dinner I always answer, "Ugh!" This is code for "I haven't thought about it and I was really hoping we would order takeout." But we can't order takeout every night. It's expensive, it's unhealthy, and that means I have to cook. That's why "ugh" eventually turns into "something quick." My idea of cooking means peeling carrots. That's a lot of cooking to me. If it weren't for frozen veggies, I'd weigh 400 pounds and I'd sneeze cholesterol.

I watch this show "Ruby" about an obese woman trying to get healthy. She eats these Hour Glass weight loss meals. Pre-packaged, perfectly measured, healthy meals you just take out of the fridge and microwave. She often complains about how boring they are, but I always sit there and think how wonderful it must be to just reach in your fridge and every meal is right there, waiting for you. Peel back the plastic and your cooking is done. AND it's healthy.

Today I planned on eating leftover chili for lunch. There was a lot left over from last night's dinner. I can handle spooning things from one container to another - that I can do. When I opened the fridge, I realized my husband had taken the whole thing to work, which left me with a problem. I was going to have to make lunch. The only thing in the house - as far as I knew - was tuna. Open the can, DRAIN the can, fork it into a bowl, add the ingredients, mix, THEN slap it on some bread. WHOA! WAY TOO MUCH WORK FOR LUNCH! I was very excited to find a can of Spaghetti-O's in the cupboard. Full of sugar and salt. Terrible for me. But all I had to do was open the can and nuke it.

Cooking might be more palatable to me (har har) if it didn't require clean-up. You might be thinking I have to stand at the sink and wash dishes for an hour but no...that's not the case. I have a dishwasher. If I didn't have a dishwasher, I would have been on the show "Hoarders" by now. I don't mind loading the dishwasher but for some inexplicable reason I hate UN-loading it. Generally, when dinnertime rolls around, hubby and I get our plates and utensils out of the dishwasher, not out of a cupboard. Cooking means more time spent bent over the dishwasher. See where I'm going with this?

Months ago, I designed my home office, or as my husband calls it, "Amy Grant Land." Lots of memorabilia, my own artwork, candles... it was so nice when I first put it together. You should see it now. It's a nightmare. I should try throwing things away every once in a while. It's not all my fault, though. Husband uses the office for his schoolwork. Want me to call out 2 things that are sitting directly in front of me at my computer desk? OK. A bottle of honey and a bag of Fritos.

During my brief stint in college, I had a friend who was constantly disgusted/horrified by the state of my dorm room. She would come to my room to meet me so we could go somewhere and would wind up cleaning it for me just so she wouldn't have to look at it in disarray anymore. I'm not as bad as I used to be in college, where I once broke 6 bottles of IBC root beer on my floor, swept up the glass but never thoroughly wiped up the soda, and stuck to the floor for the next month. I'm not like that anymore, I promise. But sometimes I wish my friend lived nearby so I could "invite her over" and get her to clean my apartment.

And now it's 3:10 pm which means I should probably get a shower. I DO bathe every day... it's just that sometimes I don't bathe until mid- to late-afternoon. If hubby isn't home, who do I need to smell good for?

The cat doesn't care. She poops in a box. Pin It

1 comments:

Christa said...

I've been really enjoying your blog, girl. Gotta say that pink typewriter at the top of the page, not to mention your funny musings on, well, everything make me smile.

Best to you from a fellow writer,
:) Christa

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