I don't mind putting away laundry, so long as I have enough room to do so. Our current place is so dinky and I hates it, Precious, and Now I hate putting clothes away.
My dreams are small: a house with an upstairs, a bedroom big enough that I don't have to side step my way to my bed and still get bruises on my thighs from the pokey bits on the top of the posts on the bed. Which always result in horrid bruises. This might also have to do with the size of said thighs but I won't say one way or the other.
This is fascinating.
How interesting to hear everyone's preferences.
I'm no good with floors, though I finally found a vacuum I quite like.
I don't like mopping, even sweeping. Since I think I have the genes of someone appearing in a movie about a small Italian town, I love shaking linens out second floor windows and will scrub a floor on hands and knees over using a mop.
That last one I attribute to The Song of Bernadette. I was an impressionable, romantic child.
I love folding laundry and enjoy hand washing dishes...hey, warm water and a clean finished product. What is not to like?
Usually, I delay cleaning the tub, but the outcome always makes me happy and it never seems as hard as I imagine it will be.
Windows? Frustration on a stick.
Vacuuming the stairs? Torture.
Aims, this is a lot of our problem too right now. Our apartment has one regular closet and two half closets. I threw the hissiest of fits before a wedding this summer trying to find two matching shoes that were pretty. I'm not proud. Things were thrown.
I iron on a semi annual basis, and sometimes for special occasions. Otherwise, if it needs ironing, it doesn't get worn. (Ironically, when I worked sewing costumes, I loved using the industrial iron.) Mopping and putting things away. They're what I hate.
I am having a big turkey dinner for friends on Sunday. I forgot to take the turkey out of the freezer until today. There will be turkey baths in my future. I was also supposed to be off on Monday, but it looks like I will be going into work, because my boss can't be arsed to email or call during work hours.
I hate ironing, but I have a steamer now and I kinda love it. It is at lest easier to me than ironing.
I really hate most cleaning and has been documented over and over I have way too much stuff, so I get overwhelmed with where to start and where to put everything and then stop halfway. Still working on it.
Speaking of which, guest room is still full of Christmas wrapping paper and misc. crappage, must work on readying it for the cowgirl.
I haven't ironed clothes in at least 30 years. If something doesn't come out of the dryer ready to wear, well, that's why god made dry cleaners. When I tried to iron, I ironed in more wrinkles than I ironed out.
Cory fricking Booker wrote me back on Twitter!
Shiny!
It would appear that if I carefully choose a half dozen of you to live with me I shall never have to do housework again. Makes courting plans.
Whenever I mention my hatred of ironing, my mother points out that she ironed her brothers' Army uniforms during WWII.
Tell her you promise to do the same next time you have a brother in a war zone.
