So, I never thought this day would come, but I am ready to admit it: I thoroughly enjoy cleaning.
I am tired when I get home from work, and I happen to have mad skills when it comes to procrastination. But I know that as an responsible adult, I have to take care of my home. So I will (eventually) cave into my inner mom and grudgingly start to clean my place. Today was one of those days.
Where normally I would hate what it was that I was doing and take a smoke break between each room completed as a reward, today I went at it like no ones business. I went above and beyond the normal routine: I threw out crap that had been accumulating for weeks, unclogged the tub drain, sorted the recycling. I even did the dishes by hand (and I realize this does not sound like a big deal, but I fucking loath doing dishes so it was totally a big deal).
By the end of it, I was a sweaty tangled mess, but it felt really good to step back, take in my work and think "I may not be able to clean up my life, but goddammit I cleaned the shit out this apartment. And that's got to count for something, right? Right! GO TEAM ME!"
Now I shall reward myself with a broke-chick spa day (which basically means an extra long shower where I remember to shave my legs and use conditioner)