Dishwasherless Woes

What drives me crazy is my roommate's inability to understand the concept of housework. Time after time, I come home to dirty cutting boards, burnt dishes, unsorted recycling bins, and crumpled-leaf ridden floors.

My first approach was that of the martyr. I'll do the dishes! I can handle it. How much could a single person generate in any given day? Alas, that didn't last long before I turned to tears as I found out the shocking truth. A single person can cause more destruction than you could ever imagine. Never have I wanted a dishwasher so much, and I have been getting stares from others when I lament on the days of the dishwasher.

But a dishwasher is just a receptacle for dirty dishes, says FlyLady. I'll have you know, Madam, that I would rather have them out of sight and dirty than in my sink and soaking with food still stuck to them.

In any case, after subjecting my parents, my dear boyfriend, my therapist! and all my work colleagues to these complaints, I resolved to develop nerves of steel and confront said roommate on this matter.

I marched over to her, declared that we would be sitting down, writing a schedule, and getting things done.

That didn't work so well. So much for being a tough girl.

"I wouldn't follow a schedule even if we had one because I never have time". Excuses, excuses.

So for now, I continue to scrub, grumble, and grimace, and hope that it adds character.