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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Comedy · #1994491
Written for Advanced Non-Fiction Workshop
I am a terrible housekeeper. I’m messy, but not exactly dirty, sometimes I leave food wrappers or trash out, but it doesn’t sit for long, now as for my kitchen sink, dishes make it there, but then they wait, and wait, to be cleaned. I sometimes know it’s time to clean when something smells funny. A lot of times I leave my apartment in a state of disaster until I can no longer stand to look at it in its condition.

         The sad part is, I wasn’t really raised to be a messy person. My parents are meticulously clean people. Not to the point of it being diagnosed as some mental disorder, but they’re just very clean. My grandma on the other hand is a very dirty person and typically has roaches all around her house. She also lives in a shanty in the woods surrounded by dirt, but that seems irrelevant when you consider her non-shanty-like home inside the city limits years ago, was also always dirty. Now I’ve never gotten to the point of roaches, but my mom does tell me I live like a hoarder.

         I do admit I have too much junk. I’ve accumulated a lot of belongs that tend not to all have a rightful place in my one bedroom apartment. I hate doing dishes, and this is only fueled by the fact that at my job at Mazzio’s, I am constantly cleaning off other people’s dirty dishes. Just Saturday afternoon, I had to scrape a dirty diaper off a plate someone had graciously left on their table for us to clean up. So when I come home, doing more dishes tends not to top the list of things I want to do.

         Truth is I am such a bad housekeeper, my mom agreed to pay half of the cost for me to pay someone to come clean my apartment once a month. My worst areas of my home are my bathroom and my kitchen. As far as my bathroom goes, I shed like a long-haired cat, and am constantly finding multiple strands of stray hair on any given surface of my bathroom. The fact that my apartment is currently in such disrepair and that my maids are coming tomorrow and will face this disaster is honestly embarrassing. I feel quite bad. But my rationale is that I have no time. If I’m not sitting down to do some sort of homework assignment, I’m likely at work. When I’m not doing one of those two things, then by default I’m tired from those two things and do not feel like taking more time and effort to clean.

         I wish there was a way to be a better housekeeper, but there’s really not, you’re either born a clean person, or you’re not, there’s no real way to train yourself to be a more clean person. I am thankful regularly that this is not 1950’s America, because I would never find a husband with my outspoken attitude and bad housekeeping skills. Thankfully this is modern America where I can be a messy, and outspoken, and aggressive woman and get away with it.

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