Doing the Dishes

It's amazing to me how sometimes I really have to summon up enough motivation and courage to dig into the pile of dishes in my sink and just wash them clean. Yes, we have a dishwasher, but there are a few select dishes (nonstick pots and pans and nice knives) that I prefer to hand wash. I think all my pots and pans, and every knife except two were piled up waiting for their bath since Saturday. I never got to them. Then on Sunday, I justified leaving them as they were because Sunday is "a day of rest".

When we first moved here, I was entirely impressed with how clean our apartment building was--inside and out. We have a huge white counter top with plenty of space. Like I mentioned in one of my first posts while living here, I made it a goal to try to keep this huge counter space clean of clutter. How well do you think I'm doing?

Haha, yes, that is how that counter top looks this very second. Well, that goal still lingers in the back of my mind and it's motivating from time to time.

During my last semester at BYU-Idaho, I had learned a thing or two about sharing an apartment with roommates.

Thing #1: I don't need to bring up my own pots and pans, because roommates will provide.

Thing #2: Roommates tend to argue when somebody uses their dishes without cleaning up afterwards.

I figured out how to make the best of both worlds. I packed for myself one plate, one glass, one piece of each silverware, and a bowl. Next, I made it a personal rule to wash my dishes, and any of the pans I borrowed immediately after use! That meant, if I ate a bowl of cereal five minutes before class started I had to wash those dishes before I went to class. I even bought my own sponge, because I hate stinky sponges, and roommates don't always know how to ring out a sponge after use. The benefit of that is that I was tall enough to hide my sponge on top of the cupboard and none of my roommates ever knew it was there.

Well needless to say, my final semester in Idaho was the messiest yet. I was highly disgusted with how the dishes piled up, but I felt free because I had been keeping my own rule everyday. One day, someone requested a "roommate meeting" about the dishes--the girls get together, "talk everything out" emotions run high, and everyone tries to compromise on their responsibilities.

It was the greatest feeling to approach this meeting by asking the first three questions:

Question: Have I contributed to any of those dirty dishes in the kitchen right now?

Response: No

Question: Do any of you have issues with the way I treat your things?

Response: No

Question: Do I really need to be involved in this "meeting?"

Response: Nope, guess not.

I walked out right after with permission and respect, and dodged the drama that ensued.

I am grateful to have married Richard who shares a similar standard of cleanliness as me. We have a small system set up where he'll empty the clean dishes from the dishwasher and generally wash the knives. Nevertheless, doing the dishes is a never-ending job. It amazes me how I'll let a whole weekend fly by, hoping they will magically get done.

But look closely at that picture. Do you see any pots or pans in the sink? I think not! You see, today, I finally rolled up my sleeves-pulled out my new dishrags and scrubbed my beloved pots and pans clean. And do you know what? It took me all of ten minutes.

Ten Minutes!

That's about a 3rd of the time it spent me to write this blog post. I guess it's time to go finish the job.

Times up!