Adventures in Domesticity

So as most people know, I am the anti-domestic.

I'm infamously horrible at all activities that are supposed to fall within the "natural" domain of wives, including (but not limited to): dusting, washing, rinsing, vacuuming, picking up, putting away, cooking, baking, ironing, sewing, knitting, embroidering (WTF is that, even?), mopping, sweeping, cooking (I know I said it already but it really warrants a second mention), entertaining, soothing babies, organizing, decorating, scrubbing, and tidying. Oh, did I mention I'm also really bad at cooking?

I'm not sure if I'm bad at these things because I hate them, or if I hate them because I'm bad at them. But I suspect the answer to that would make very little difference in the outcome; no matter which way you slice it, I hate vacuuming and ALSO can't ever seem to figure out how to work the damn vacuum without blowing chunks of dust all over everything.

Luckily, I happened to marry a man who is very good at domestic pursuits, and who really wanted to be a full-time student for three years. Perfect! So, ever since our marriage began in 2008, I always go to work and do the breadwinner thing, and Adam produces fabulous creations out of The Art of French Cooking (no joke, his boeuf bourguignon is a thing of beauty) and matches up freshly laundered socks in between his Latin translations and preaching workshops.

I had it made. And then I screwed it up by going back to school.

Starting this summer/fall, I will be the full-time student, and Adam will (hopefully) be the full-time breadwinner. This means that I am going to have to take on quite a bit more housework. EW.

I'm not even sure how to go about this. I mean, at a certain point, no amount of practice is going to help. On a basic, molecular level, I just suck at this crap. You can give a penguin flying lessons for as long as you want, but that penguin just isn't gonna fly. It's not made to fly. God made that penguin to be an earthbound penguin, and it's great at lots of other things--it's great at eating fish and waddling around and having its mating habits narrated by Morgan Freeman. But it's not gonna fly.

So I've made myself a series of notes on cleaning, gleaned from watching my husband labor while I lazed about on my chaise lounge and ate bonbons:

Vacuuming
-Plug in vacuum first. V. important.
-Press "on" switch. Vacuum will make horrible noises like demon hellspawn springing out of the stomach of a goat to wreak vengeance upon the world. Do not shriek "OMG OMG OMG TURN IT OFF," as this will not stop noises, and will merely result in Husband rolling eyes at you.
-Move vacuum around room. Avoid small wires. Also: cats.
-To turn off vacuum, press "off" switch. This will only work 45% of the time. The other 65% of the time, the vacuum will continue to vacuum, heedless of your button-pressing, and will in fact start sucking up the frayed edge of your pantleg. If "off" switch does not work, scream frantically for Husband. If Husband merely laughs, drag self (with vacuum now attached) across the room and unplug vacuum.

Cooking
-Choose recipe from online blog that claims to be "healthy, delicious, and easy!"
-Boil water.
-Turn on oven.
-Realize that you don't have any flour. Turn off appliances and run to store.
-Come back. Mix everything in bowl.
-Realize that you don't have any potatoes. Turn off appliances and run to store.
-Come back. Heat oil.
-Realize that you don't have any cayenne pepper. Turn off appliances and run to store.
-Realize at store that you don't even know what cayenne pepper is. It that, like, a vegetable or something? Call Husband to ask.
-Pay five million dollars for cayenne pepper. (NOTE: Same ingredient would cost $1.87 in hometown.)
-Come back. Pour mixture into hot oil.
-NOTE: DO NOT TRY TO WATCH RERUNS OF BIG BANG THEORY WHILE MIXTURE COOKS. This results in fire.
-Rip smoke alarm off wall and stuff under pillows on bed to muffle horrid noise. Curse Husband for being so good at keeping the batteries fresh in that damn thing.
-Scrape off burnt mess into trash can.
-Make salad. Serve with hardboiled eggs that Husband made two days ago. Present to Husband as "light, healthy dinner."

Laundry
-Separate clothes into "lights" (i.e., everything that is not black) and "darks" (i.e., everything that is black).
-Drag massive hamper into basement.
-Throw clothes into washer. Pour in some detergent. There's some sort of line of the cap but that totally can't be right.
-Go back upstairs. Set alarm for thirty minutes.
-Take a two-hour nap. Wake up. Go for a run. Take a shower. Watch TV. Have dinner with Husband. Dessert. Snuggle time. Bed.
-Wake up the next morning.
-Remember laundry in machine. Kick door so hard that you hurt your foot, like really hurt it, like maybe it's broken. This way, Husband will finish the rest of the process for you.