...domestically that is.

Sometimes I wake up and seem incapable of asserting any control over this place. Full bins, clean washing four-ways (folded, piled on sufaces, thrown in baskets, wet in baskets), unmade beds, dishes in the sink/dishwasher/table, piles of debris on my desk... shit just everywhere. When its like this I lurch about not solving any of the problems and getting myself in a stupor.

The looming arrival of my OCD partner is usually enough to snap me out of it and I do often manage to pull it together as he walks in the door. Very 1950's actually...


  1. That's just it, we always just pull it together.... Your house really never is quiet the brothel you claim it to be, it's just that it's your brothel and that's the disturbing thing... You really are a 1950's domestic goddess minus the Valium.... Bring that shit back I say! X

  2. Oh how I can relate to this and I have one of those partners too X