Photos taken with a Sony Xperia V
It's into the 17th day of the fasting month already – how fast time flies. In about a week time, I’ll be so busy with our festive preparation. I hate all the packing and cleaning. Okay, let’s make this clear again. I actually enjoy spring cleaning but what’s making me hate it to no end now is the lack of help I receive from the people living under the same roof as me. I haven’t been at home much for the past two days and trust me when I say my dad's house was in a wreck when I got home last night. Baby shoes were strewn all over the dining hall, corporate shoes were on the bench where people actually sit down on, the dish rack was filled with so much unnecessary containers, plates, bowls, cups (that weren’t even arranged neatly), the drinking jugs in the fridge was empty, newspapers weren’t returned to its proper place after reading, the pillows on the sofa was all over the sofa and daybed, I’m telling you – this list can go on forever. I don’t blame my parents at all. They manage the house well. I guess I just happened to be in-charge of all the micro stuffs. I like to call myself the micro-manager of the house. It’s an unspoken truth though. I always am the one cleaning up the loose ends. The small litter on the floor, the arrangement of the snack cabinet, that piece of unfinished food on the counter, that one chair that wasn’t pushed in after being used, the remote control that’s on the sofa instead of the TV stand, that sticky area on the floor… You know, that sort of stuffs. But omg, I goddamn hate it when I accidentally step on something sticky. I know right away what it is. Most of the times, it is spilled milk powder. Seriously? I don’t mind doing all the cleaning but lately, it’s getting too much to the point of annoyance. I just don’t understand why some people in my dad’s house never understand the concept of “clean as you go”. Is it really that hard to throw that litter on your way out? Or to just arrange the pillows back to its original place after using it? Is it really THAT hard? If it doesn’t kill you, why not just do it? It sickens me to no end when I come home from work tired, or when I’m about to turn in, and find the house in little mess here and there. Actually everywhere. It is seriously just the small stuffs but when there’s just too many of these small stuffs, it becomes a major problem for me. And I hate that. I hate that sometimes we have unexpected guests turning up at our doorstep only to witness all these mess. I feel like shit infinity. And it just never gets better because the population in my dad’s place is just happily increasing. I am unhappy. And I can't wait to get married and have my own house.