Chores are boring.

As usual, the weekends are for chores. I moved the “keep this shit” pile into The Pink Room and started to make a “trash this shit” pile in the dining room. I washed some dishes, and vacuumed the living and dining rooms before I built the trash trash piles. In between the regular chores, I took pictures of things and listed them on Facebook’s marketplace.

I feel like if it hadn’t been so miserably hot, I might have done more. Unfortunately, it’s supposed to be even hotter today. I don’t have a lot of the “regular” tasks. Normally, I’d do laundry. However, I was in a very bad headspace last week, and in a totally lazy move, I left the laundry in the basement. Technically, I don’t need to do laundry today if I don’t want to.

Happily, I managed to sell a few things this weekend. I listed half of my vintage coats on Facebook, and I should meet someone later this morning to sell one. Shawshank‘s collection of Ian Flemming 007 books from the 60’s sold on eBay for double what I expected. If I can sell the tea set, I’ll be extra happy. It should be sunny all day, and I can take some more photos.

Shawshank also did chores. In a way, his stories of the “momsplaining” she subjects him to amuse me. First, there was a war over him making my kheer recipe one week after he described it as similar to rice pudding. Since she has her own recipe for that, she initially tried to have him make the kheer the same way. Last week, she fluttered around him while he made their family’s homemade noodle recipe, which he made countless times in the past. His parents were out all day yesterday, while he stayed home and cleaned. Friday, his mother gave him a lesson in how to use her vacuum. He’s over 40 and he’s lived on his own for over half his life now. He can run a vacuum.

On the other hand, the stories are a little scary. At some point, I’ll have to live with that behavior. I foresee two potential outcomes. First, I keep my mouth shut, and politely listen to her explain the obvious. Second, I tell her exactly what I think of her instructions. I’m sure the obvious solution is somewhere in the middle.

And…. I just realized that I absolutely do need to wash clothes, because last weekend I didn’t wash scrubs, and had moved on to wearing the older scrubs.

Shit.