i know it's not a completely original complaint, but goddamn i hate working for ten hours, dealing with people with shitty pants and weirdo tumors that i have to touch, only to come home and find that no one has done a fucking thing to clean up after themselves. dishes all over the kitchen, empty cans of beer on the counters, books and papers all over the living room, you get the idea. i don't know about you, but i find it just as exhausting to have to leave lists of things for the kids to do as clean it up myself. because seriously?! you can't see what needs to be put up away? you really like the shrill tone my voice takes when i'm irritated?
i hate hate hate being the nagging mom-person. i hate that i feel like this. i hate that the house is trashed and no one gives a fuck. i hate that i have to bug my husband to do anything, and now that we're married his favorite thing to do is point out how little i "contribute" financially, meaning, "i know you work all day but you don't make as much as i do, so maybe you can shut up about the dishes." or maybe that's just what i think it means. i know he works hard, and i know his schedule is weird and he comes home at odd hours of the day, but if it doesn't kill me to take twenty minutes to tidy things up, why should it kill him?
tonight i am going to hide in my room with the netflix and a cocktail, and everyone can fend for themselves. the end.