Oh no. The kitchen. Not the kitchen, I can’t today. It’s too much. The dishes overflowing the sink. Slowly taking over the flower dusted counter covered in tiny paw prints from my furry friends. How the hell am I supposed to clean all this right now? Is the dishwasher empty? Fuck, it’s not. That’s just Flippin wonderful. I can’t even clean the kitchen until that is empty so I can wash the dishes. This is not my day to win. I have lied to myself yet again.
These thought race through my mind as I sit here in the kitchen floor at the corner of my lazy Susan crying and typing. Why is it so hard for me to do these simple tasks. Tasks that most people dread because they just don’t want to deal with it. But me, I dread these tasks for a different reason. I dread them because I desperately want to do them but I cannot mentally handle the amount of chaos I see in front of me. I wish that I could procrastinate doing the dishes just because I hate doing them. Instead, I don’t procrastinate. I fucking fight myself. Who the hell has to fight themselves over this stupid shit? I do. And what does that do? It stresses me out. Not because I can’t do it. But because if I don’t then we can’t make dinner tonight. And if we can’t make dinner tonight then that makes me a shitty wife. And if I’m a shitty wife, why would my husband want to be here. OMG, what if he doesn’t want to be here? Does he? Fuck me, I have to do this. I can’t lose my husband because of some dirty dishes. I can’t let there demons win. No. Not today.
I guess I can’t give up. I can’t disappoint my husband again. It it’s time for me to face the dreaded kitchen.