Babies Are Horrible Bosses

Clean ovens: not just for like two days before you move out!

I may be the currently-occupying tenant but I deserve to have my house not fill up with smoke whenever I want to bake something.

There’s something freeing about being like, You don’t have to clean the kitchen, past tense completed object, you just have to be cleaning the kitchen for 20 minutes, and even when my kitchen is A HELL HOLE it’s not unnoticeably improved after 20 min.

Going to the bathroom is significantly less revolting now.

So my mom and my sister were coming for a visit, and because my house is basically mostly clean all the time now anyways (ha ha, WHAT? [Yes’m, that is correct]), I channelled some of that fervent, guests-are-coming energy into more Areas of Gross. What’s that, hard-water-stained-faucet-with-soapy-build up?

Ha cha cha. 

Oh, you are bespotten with rust, shower-curtain-rod?


Razors-only-outlet, I don’t even know why you exIST but you are, oh my god, so gross.


I can’t find Barkeeper’s Friend in Canada so I had to CLR that shit. When in Rome, amirite?

I just wanted some accolades for not being a total ass.

The charger for my beloved swiffer vac got SOMEWHERED in the move and hasn’t turned up yet, so I’ve been not cleaning the kitchen floor. But today I remembered that I OWN A FUCKING BROOM.

I swept that shit.

The ungrossing continues.

See? Gross:

+ baking soda + toothbrush purchased expressly for the purpose = 

ungross! I will make you less nasty yet, extremely affordable but slightly dodgy accommodations.

Home on the range, bitches.

Ok so we finally have our own habitat now after a year of living with my parents and having someone else to cook and clean and shit. It is both great and terrible. 

And the rent on our new place is verrrra cheap because the place is a bit of a hole. A hole with gross bits, because the people who lived here last didn’t clean it to the exacting specifications *I* would have cleaned it to if I had been moving out. And because it’s a hole, the gross bits are extra-gross, and if the gross bits were UN-GROSS, the place would look Actually Kind Of Good, Considering How Cheap The Rent.

In between behaving like a fucking grown-up (so, like, doing the dishes and laundry and making the bed and shit, i.e. Basic Maintenance Cleaning), I have been Ungrossing the Gross Bits. Like this shower head.



And then the other day I actually said OUT LOUD, ‘I’m just going to go clean up the bathroom real quick.’ That is a thing that I said with my mouth, because cleaning the bathroom is a thing that I do and is also a thing done quickly and not ARDUOUSLY with much MOANING AND FLAILING.

Hair volcano!

It has been, I know, SO long. But I am moving tomorrow and I feel like I’ll need this tumblr to keep my unpacking unfucked.

BUT IN THE MEANTIME I have been unfucking my head-habitat. So my cheap-ass hair product was making my bangs look greasy ON HAIR-WASHING DAY, and my sister-in-law has been washing her hair with baking soda and vinegar, so I googled some shit and then scrubbed my head with 1:4 baking soda:water paste, and then rinsed it, and then rinsed it with 1:1 vinegar:water (you’re supposed to use apple cider but I had white so I used white because fuck going to the store) and my hair is CLEAN and BOUNCY and SOFT and CLEAN.

Hair volcano! (The term ‘hair volcano’ is a joke, you guys. You probably shouldn’t make an ACTUAL hair volcano on your head. Although, maybe? Someone try this and get back to me. I will continue to rinse with water in between steps.)

I’mma keep on doin.

I haven’t been checking in because I was embarrassed by the state of Chair City, because I LEFT A BOWL ON THE FLOOR. And then I wasn’t cleaning up the bowl because I wasn’t checking in, and wasn’t checking in YOU GET IT MY INABILITY TO CLEAN WAS BITING ITS OWN TAIL but then today I was like, Fuck it, this is my mess.

And most of it I am ok with. The books on the red chair? Books I have to review (I should probably stack them on the footstool to make myself less antsy). The coffee mugs on the bookshelf? The clothes on the footstool from yesterday that I have been awesomely putting away after the Complaint Department wakes up? Acceptable mess. It’s mostly just the bowl that I’m like OH GOD I AM A FAILURE. 

So I cleaned up the bowl. (Which, of course, led to tidying up the acceptable mess. MOMENTUM.)

Also, I have been trying to unfuck all my ‘make do’ areas - places where things don’t WORK, for whatever reason. Like, my vitamins. I need them because my diet is alternately EXCELLENT and shit, and I am still Feeding A Human With My Boobs during those shit periods (which can be, like, weeks long). I take them before bed because then I’m not burping up Essential Fish Oils For Brain Development all day, but once the Fragile Sleeper was born I stopped because the sound of them being shooken out of the bottle was so loud it’d wake her. So I moved them to the shelves behind Chair City where they were promptly ignored, because who thinks about their Omega 3 levels at 2 am? Sure not me.

But then I poured them in a bowl CHECK IT PILL PARTY so I can just sort of fish them out before bed. They are textureally different, so I can gank out one of each in the dark. It was such an easy solution I could PUNCH SOMETHING.


It’s like giving myself a cookie for doing my chores

I find before-and-after photos outrageously satisfying, which makes me less inclined to unfuck things that don’t photograph well. But fuck that.

Here are the clothes I’m giving away after today’s closet challenge:

And here is the load of laundry I put away:


I am all the winners.

Unfucking as much as ever I am able.

I took the Thing for a walk because it refused to nap, and a tired Thing is an ANGRY THING, and when I got home it was still napping in its kangaroo pouch so I let it nap against me and I did all sorts of Standing Up Unfuckeries. Like laundry. And not just ORDINARY laundry, I washed the motherfucking SHEETS. 

(Washing bedclothes is my kryptonite, mostly because I hate re-assembling the bed.)

I also pulled out and wiped down the ‘mattress’ from the Thing’s pack-n-play where it sleeps because it spits up all. night. It is a tiny fountain of curdled milk. I should be wiping that mattress down on the regular.

Speaking of curdled milk, the chair in which I feed it was covered in spots of spit-up but IS NO LONGER. This is nice. I feel like I’ve been living in a state of survival for the last two months, and now I’m emerging from it to do superfluous but necessary things like dress myself and get that nasty stink out of the chair. FRIVOLITIES! I have missed you.