Solutions

I'm not sure whether a better title for this post would be 'Confessions.'

There are some chores that are unavoidable. Like when you've worn your last, ugliest, most uncomfortable pair of underwear and simply must do the laundry. Or when you've syphoned the very last drops of shampoo from the bottle and have to go to the supermarket TODAY or wash your hair with dish soap tomorrow (No way. I have standards.). For other chores, there are solutions.

Sometimes you imagine that you're too tired or busy to cook dinner and clean the bathroom all in the same night. Sometimes this is a recurring problem for weeks on end. If things start to get out of hand, give the toilet seat a once over with a wet-wipe and light a candle, then hope that no one turns on the bathroom light. If it's absolutely imperative that the room remains dark, unscrew the lightbulb and pretend that it burned out.

When your landlady knocks on the door for the second time this week, bearing more of her homemade kimchi because you used the word "delicious" (even though, actually, it made you sick), and you're embarrassed that she's going to see how you still haven't washed the dishes since her first vist, do this: loudly shout "Chum-shi-manyo!" ("Wait, please.") a lot of times to mask the sound of clanging, unwashed dishes as you hide them in the oven. Before you open the door, give your hair good shake to dislodge any stray pieces of lettuce that might have escaped from the salad bowl.

You wonder where all of your time has gone, how you've consistently been failing to keep your 300 square foot apartment clean and feed yourself balanced meals. Then you crack yourself up remembering fart jokes from the three seasons of 30 Rock you've managed to watch in the last 2 weeks and conclude that you should probably re-distribute your priorities....

Later.

Right now I'm too busy checking the next item off of my to-do list: googling pictures of owl babies. And when I'm finished with that, grumpy owls. 'Owls with rumpled feathers' yielded some photos of dead owls. Not funny, Google.

Eleven months out of the year I'm a careful eater and meticulous housekeeper but lately I can't seem to be bothered.