Unsatisfactory accomplishments

I just did a lot of chores.

I started with the usual dishes. I do those pretty much every day. Empty the dishwasher, load the dishwasher, wash stuff that can’t go in the dishwasher.

When I was done with that and I’d set out the stuff I need to cook tonight’s dinner, I decided to go ahead and deal with an issue that’s been bugging me for several days: the laundry room/pantry needed to be swept and mopped out.

After the apartment guys took the washer and dryer we were renting, I discovered not only the expected dust and lint bunnies but also a lake of spilled liquid detergent that I had to scrub out by hand (I used paper towels). When I’d finally raked up the majority of the goop, I swept up what I could of the dust and then mopped the closet floor. After that I went ahead and mopped the kitchen floor too.

Then I decided to finally get the stupid laundry off the dining room table–as if doing that would somehow change the fact that my table is in chaos, pushed up against the wall so it’s out of the way for moving in a new washer and dryer and covered with all the junk that had been sitting on the original washer and dryer.

So I put the laundry away, and then I sorted all the dirty laundry into three baskets, lights, whites, and darks, so that when the new washer and dryer arrive–or when we run out of clothes and I have to force myself to go to the coin laundry behind the building–I will at least be organized in advance.

Then I rearranged the junk on the dining room table and tried to convince myself that it looked better. And then I vacuumed the floor where the apartment guys had tracked dirt and lint.

I don’t really feel a sense of accomplishment or happiness, probably because my dining room is still retarded and because none of this has solved the real problem in our lives, which is money.