More Snow

They’re predicting the kind of weather tomorrow into Thursday that makes me concerned I’ll be sitting here on my couch Thursday and Friday. Maybe I’ll get ambitious and clean the kitchen, which the Butcher informs me is not part of the dishwashing duties. This comes as a great shock, because, since he’s my brother, I grew up in the same house as him and hung out with his grandparents and I can assure you that we are at least the third generation of people who clean up the kitchen as we do the dishes.

Or at least, we were when I was doing the dishes.

It always makes me feel like a dumbass when I think about how chores happen in our house, because the Butcher could live in a junkyard and be fine. They always advise that roommate (or spouse) harmony comes from respecting the level of filth the other person in the house is willing to live with and, if you need it to be cleaner than that, doing it yourself.

They never explain how to keep from being the only person who cleans in that scenario.

And I’m not an incredibly clean person. I just have standards like “Maybe we shouldn’t just leave the garbage the dog took out of the can on the floor.”

Anyway, I’ve gotten off track because the thought of being here, trapped in this house again, is setting me on edge.

What I came here to say is I think I want to do it–write a ghost story. I mean, I’m old and I’m apparently not getting any more successful as a writer. I want to have written something genuinely scary and unsettling. So, I think I better do it.


2 thoughts on “More Snow

  1. Oooh, chore fights can be nasty fights. And yeah, there is some sexism there in how men treat housework, even well-meaning men. Amanda Marcotte writes about this a bit, and I thought this article was pretty good in talking about solutions:

    In our house, I am responsible for X chores and he is responsible for Z chores and we try to keep it even. I am dishes, he is laundry, and we almost never do the others’ chores (which also means we can’t complain about how they are done, though I am allowed to complain if he, for example, shrinks all my shirts. He could complain if I broke his favorite mug. And so on).

    We have to maintain this divide or we fight. He and I don’t wash dishes or clothes the same way/have the same standards. He cleans one of the bathrooms, I clean the other, but first we had to agree what “cleaning” meant (mirrors, counter, floors, toilet). I still think he doesn’t scrub enough, but I don’t use that bathroom much so I let it go.

    Him saying he wasn’t going to do *any* chores because he just didn’t care, though, why was I being so picky, just like a woman! would be fighting time. Filth is bad for your health. Even if the other person didn’t care about living like pig in slop, it’s not fair of them to trash the space *that you also share* and expect *you* to be ok with it.

    So I don’t bitch about his office for example; I spend no time there. He wouldn’t be allowed to bitch about mine. But mutual spaces require both of us doing minimal cleaning. So he vacuums the living room once a week (he and the kid mess it up pretty regularly) and he and the kiddo clean the fish tank, while I try to pick up my shoes and coat once in a while, that kind of thing.

  2. The weird thing is that I’ve seen him with his girlfriends, even the ones he’s lived with, and he definitely is not such a slob with them. So, I end up with hurt feelings about it because I don’t experience it as sexist, since he’s pro-actively clean and helpful with his girlfriends, just as him being like “Well, who cares if we live this way?” without consideration for the fact that I care. At least a little.

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