But I want to be a good homemaker, and I decided I need to learn to clean without dwelling on the fact that I hate it. It takes too much energy when I'm thinking how much I hate it. Maybe if I just do it, I'll have energy left to think about obscure things like decorating (I haven't hung a picture myself since I left home when I was 18).
With that lofty goal in mind, I set out to be a better housekeeper. Then I realized that I'm still living in my in-laws' basement, and might not have my own apartment again until late summer or fall. Sigh.
In spite of this, I was determined, so I tackled the one room in the house which is "our space," which is, of course, overflowing with things that would normally be spread out around our apartment. I dusted, vacuumed, and shoved the piles into more orderly piles, creating a larger space in the middle of the floor which made the room feel much less overwhelming. I was very proud of myself. It took me two days.
Okay, so two days for one room isn't great, but it's a start.
Then this evening I was in the kitchen, and realized the dishwasher had just been run and was full of clean dishes, so I started to put them away. And that's when it hit me: there is a household task that I don't hate. Not only that, I actually like it. I like unloading the dishwasher. I like placing the clean, shiny dishes in orderly stacks, each in its precise cupboard. I enjoy seeing the dishwasher emptying, and knowing that I'm making tangible progress. I like grabbing up handfuls of silverware and seeing how many handfuls it takes me to put it all away.
Now, don't ask me to load the dishwasher. Grabbing dirty dishes and trying to rinse food off, then trying to fit everything in, and finding more dishes that you missed as soon as you start running it--not my idea of fun. But unloading it, I do enjoy.
And if I can come to like one part of tidying up, perhaps in time I can learn to like the rest of it. It might be awhile, but today it's seeming more possible.