Frozen burritos

For the past few days, the state of my kitchen has been…mostly disgusting. But between working Thursday night, partying Friday night, and then working my tail off Saturday night to the point of exhaustion, I just couldn’t manage to do dishes. Every time I thought about the dishes, I just wanted a nap. I wanted anything except for doing dishes. I posted on Facebook:

“Sometimes I…I just wish there was a clean dishes fairy. Like, if I leave all of them under my bed and promise to sleep all afternoon, will they get washed? If I leave forty bucks under my pillow, will the dishes fairy come? Looking at my kitchen has now exhausted me and I need a nap.”

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Unfortunately…no fairies or elves showed up. Not one. Instead, over a foot of snow arrived, starting during my late, late Saturday night shift. I worked so hard during my shift that, after only a few hours, I was doubling my painkillers. I could barely walk or stand, but I had to keep going. It was busy and the money just kept rolling in. Beyond that, some voyeurs showed up from the party I’d attended the night before. I’m never shy about letting people know what I do, but I surely don’t tell them where I work. I felt like, because of those voyeurs, I had to try even harder. What if my friends heard I was a terrible dancer? The night went on, and I was in more and more pain. Being an athlete for a living is no cakewalk…and for as much as people think the money is “easy,” the permanent injuries throughout my entire body can surely tell you that it is anything but “easy.” Fast, maybe. But never, ever easy.

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By the end of the night, some drunks came in, demanding dances with me and berating me for telling them that I just couldn’t do it. I physically, absolutely, couldn’t make my weak, powerless, exhausted body zapped of sleep and nutrients take one more step in stilettos. Not only was I sore to start the night, but I knew there was no way I was cleaning the kitchen at five in the morning to make whatever the hell I could think up with such a cloudy, starved brain. Plus, I still had to shovel my driveway, and my neighbors’ while it was snowing and sleeting heavily. And then over and over and over again, I lifted hundreds of pounds of watery, wet, slushy, frozen snow gunk until our driveways were clear, just for a minute as the snow kept coming.

I’ve been trying so hard and sticking to the spirit of this cooking thing, but after work, I hit the grocery store with the intention of buying a bunch of prepackaged garbage food to microwave and wolf down. And you know what? I did. I found a package of way, way overpriced and questionable grocery store sushi, corn chips, frozen gluten-free burritos, goat cheese, and three rolls of 100% recycled paper towels. I barely ate much, and fell asleep quickly. A second burrito served as an okay breakfast at 3pm today, just until I could start cleaning up the mess.

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Cleaning the kitchen has so far taken me almost two hours, and I’m still not done. I’m boxing up two sets of dishes to give away, and trying so hard not to see the real convenience of paper plates. I’ve even cooked again, making a mess of several pans, plates, and utensils that I’d just cleaned. The dishes will never end. On December 31st, when someone asks me how the year went without restaurants, I’ll just have to say: “I don’t know. I couldn’t quit doing dishes long enough to eat.”

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