My sink is full again.
It is piled high with plates, bowls, and mugs.
I can’t remember the last time it got this bad.
Except I do.
Because it was last week.
The thought of plunging my hands into dirty water and grime and food scraps makes my brain twitch.
I say to myself, deal with this pile. Just do it all at once, just get it over with. I put on music so loud it numbs the feeling in my hands, one sense for another is traded, so I can push through the pile. I wash and wash, scrubbing like my life depends on it, drizzling lemon scented soap too generously, until there is nothing but a sink with one cup full of cutlery and dirty water. I clean the cutlery, brushing with vigour at melted cheese and Nutella and peanut butter.
I wash the cup and thank it for its service, placing it on the drying rack.
Sometimes there is not enough room on my drying rack, so I place a towel down on the other side of my sink, I have to get this done I have to get this done I have to get this done.
My sink is full again.
How could I allow it to get this way?
I should have just cleaned that pot after dinner, like I said I was going to.
But I was tired.
I was exhausted, I couldn’t bear it.I couldn’t even look at it.
That pot is tomorrow’s problem.
I say to myself, I will clean 5 dishes at a time. But that’s not enough, this pile will never go away if I only clean 5 dishes at a time. I say to myself, 10 dishes at a time. But what about the cutlery? That can’t count as a full dish. I say to myself, I will clean 10 dishes at a time and no cutlery. Every time I enter the kitchen, I will clean 10 dishes at a time, but no cutlery.
I will wash and wash until there is that damn cup full of cutlery and dirty water. I will wash the forks and the knives and the spoons, and I will wash the cup and dry it this time, put it back in its home, thanking it for its service once again.
I am an animal, and I need rules. I need regulation to function, I need to be trained, but there is no one to train me, so I train myself. I wash 10 dishes at a time. And then the cutlery. And then the cup.
Now that my sink is empty, I promise myself that I will clean my dishes after every meal. I will never let it get this bad again.
My sink is full again.
How can I live this way?
This is disgusting,I am disgusting.
I say to myself, I have 10 minutes to clean as many dishes as possible, now it’s a race against time. I feel invigorated, and it is gross and slimy, but my hands move so swiftly I barely recognize them. I’ve cut myself off from the version of myself that does the dishes. I barely feel it when I reach down beneath pots and pans to drain the water, my hands brushing against wet rice and chopped onions and pieces of ramen noodles.
I say to myself every morning, I will clean my dishes for 5 minutes to prevent this from ever happening again.
I say to myself, I deserve to live in a clean home.
I say to myself, I am not disgusting.
My sink is full again.
My laundry basket is full again.
My garbage basket is full again.
My desk is full again.
My coffee table is full again.
My computer is full again.
My camera is full again.
My journal is full again.
My sketchbook is full again.
My head is full again.
My stomach is full again.
My closet is full again.
My drawers are full again.
My cabinets are full again.
My sink is full again.
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