It’s day 2 of the snow dump here in TO. The sun is shinning and everyone’s looking to dig themselves out. I can’t help but feel smug, and I shouldn’t. This is a typical Regina winter right now, and Toronto thinks it’s big news. The street outside my window is a mess. I haven’t decided if I’ll drive to a thing I’m going to tonight, or take the subway. As smug as I might be at the moment, I don’t really have the best footwear for this sort of snow.
The girls who live upstairs are from Guatemala. I watched them try to get their car brushed off yesterday morning, and it was a bit of a circus. After a spell I got dressed, grabbed the snow brush from my car, and cleaned off their vehicle for them. They thought it was a huge big deal. I shrugged and told them that back home, we call that, the first step to getting to work in the morning.
As easily as it is for me to venture out into the snow and clean off someone’s car, I wish I could feel the same way about dishes. They’re a bit piled up at the moment. Probably won’t even take 10 minutes to wash ’em. Still, I just haven’t been able to bring myself to do them. It’s my way I suppose. For this reason, I only keep a limited supply on hand. I’m sort of forced to wash ’em when I run out. Keeps the apartment less cluttered that way.
I suspect somewhere out there, is a dish washing fanatic, thinking about people like me and feeling smug herself. She could be all, “Back home we do our dishes seven times a day! Sometimes we even take clean ones out the cupboard and wash ’em up just because!”
Maybe she’s really hot too. She could live near me, and come over and wash my dishes seven times a day – even if they’re already clean. She’d love me for it – and I’d brush off the snow from her car – even if it were already summer. And we’d hang out and watch movies – movies about doing dishes – in the wintertime. And then we’d make love.
Of course, the whole thing could end badly if she ever met the really hot laundry fanatic chick whom I just thought up in my head.