Cleaning My Damn House

That's what I've been doing all day. So much so that my legs are exhausted, as I've been standing up since like 1pm. Wes and I are entertaining this weekend (aren't we every weekend, haha), so it's time for me to put away all those piles of things to put away later.

So far, I've pretty well managed to avoid an unequal gender division of labor, where I do all the work while Wes sits around and you know, does man things like watch tv or drink beer. I have a secret weapon--I'm lazy. Like crazy lazy. And I hate cleaning. And I have a really high tolerance for clutter. Not filth, clutter. So I'll wipe up stuff like the sinks, but I'm pretty laid back about the rest. And, because I'm totally lazy, I have absolutely no qualms about asking Wes to help me.

I've read articles about training or nagging men into helping you (Linda Hirschman has some extreme ideas in Get to Work--hey, where is my copy of that?), but usually I just ask Wes or complain about having to do it and he does it. Even though I'm by far the messier one. So at the risk of jinxing myself, cleaning my house is not as bad as it could be. Though I hear it could get worse (and here I'm trying to link to a Feministing post whose permalink isn't working, but it says that co-habitating men do more housework than married men. Reason #8,567 why I'm not getting married... Reason #8,568 is that Wes announced today that he likes the name Felon for a child, Felony for a girl.)

Anyway, I also did this today! Hooray for Halloween!