Living in Filth

I just don't get this whole adult thing where people live in clean palaces.

Here's what I see when I visit other people:

Here's what I see when I come home:

(Except we don't have the excuse of kids to cause this sort of thing)

Wife and I have a bedroom, office, living room, kitchen and two bathrooms to clean. That's really not a lot of space. And this March, we planned out 1-2 rooms per weekend for deep cleaning, like taking out everything, rearraginging, dusting, washing it and putting it back. We got the living room done, and most of the kitchen. 

Even when things are relatively tidy, things go to shit quick. Since we try to eat healthy and make food at home, the dishes pile up quickly. Empty table space is like an invitation for the mail you don't think you can throw away yet, but don't know what to do with either as well as the cereal boxes that just don't fit in anywhere. Wife has a desperate fear of becoming a hoarder, so at least we are able to throw away legitimate trash. At least we aren't living with the remains of takeout food surrounding us along with dead cats for atmosphere. right?

The way I see things, there's about 5 useable hours a day where you aren't sleeping or working (including prep and travel time). Take out 2 hours for applying to jobs. 1 hour for cooking a healthy dinner. and there's two hours left in your day. Oh, wait, we have to budget the bills and see if we have enough to buy gas this week. 1.5 hours left. 

Oh wait, I'd like to spend some time connecting (not a euphemism, not entirely) with the person I want to spend my life with. Hard to connect when you're elbow deep in toilet gunk. 

So we end up doing what absolutely has to be done, like dishes and laundry, and leave the rest for another day. 

It's all just another thing Disney lied to me about. Where are the singing birds and mice that are supposed to help do this shit?

At least we got the Christmas tree down this month.