I have been dealing with the phenomenon in my life the last few years that I like to call Baby Adultism. Now, I am the first to admit that I have no problem asking my mommy for help when I need it. In fact, she is helping me pay for school. But my bills, my rent, my food, my clothing, my automobile…that is and has been all me since I got a job after school. Now granted, 2 of my favorite people are on the mild end of this spectrum, but I like them so I can deal with it. What I can’t deal with is people who are nearing their 30’s who still act like their mom should be following them around with a duster and a roll of paper towels. That type of thinking should have stopped when you were 7.
It drives me nuts when you have to post signs reminding people to clean up after themselves in the kitchen at work. We had weekly shifts back at the Bear and when Friday came on my shift, you better believe your food and your dishes went in the trash if their was no name on it or it was left dirty in the sink.
You have a full time job and you aren’t incentivized enough to clean up after yourself there? What in the world does your living space look like?! I don’t want to know.
Right now I keep getting waves of anxiety because I want to clean my car and my apartment but I am eyeball deep in homework for the next two weeks. Now, I still keep the toilets and kitchen as clean as I can, but I swear to you one of my roommates just cooks and leaves all of the crumbs and sauces everywhere. Like come on, I know you can see that. Celebrate the fact that you have working eyes and arms and get freaky with your cleanin’ self. Or let your roommate do it. That seems like the better option. In fact, when I first moved in Tim found out that someone was stashing all of their trash under the love seat.
Like, is that normal? Maybe I am the weird one for not knowing this trick. It is possible I suppose. I cannot wait until I get to start yelling at my boyfriend for not washing his dishes. At least I can address the issue then in a non passive aggressive way. When I rant like this, I often wonder if other people don’t think I am as clean as I do. My mommy taught me to do my laundry, to vacuum (and make sure to avoid the cord), to cover my food with a paper towel in the microwave, to clean out my blown up food in the microwave, to clean the bathroom weekly, to dust (which I am still really bad at), and to wash my sheets on the reg. Maybe for a week she can follow me around and teach all the other people in the world to do the same.
On that note, I leave you with these dishes at work: