amazngj's Diaryland Diary

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Don't tell my wife

I like doing dishes.

Not at home, of course. I like doing dishes at work. I like washing pots and pans and mugs and glasses and plates and bowls and saucers and utensils and silverware. But not the dishes from the three of us at home. I only enjoy doing the dishes for seven hundred strangers on a Saturday Morning in Milford.

In a hectic job where I usually have to coordinate the activities of twenty or so people at a time and satisfy the previously mentioned seven hundred Milfreudians, I enjoy having nothing more to think about than, "Dirty?" or "Clean?" It's so simple. so organized. Very black and white. There is now grey area with dishes. They either need cleaned or they already are. Simple. Mindless. Easy. Today my opening dishtanker called out, and I was relieved. I get to do dishes. I had a nasty headache in the back of my neck this morning, and I did not want to deal with people. Or Milfreudians.

So, I started around seven o'clock. I like getting the dishes backed up for a while so that the entire counter is dirty and stacked with excessive amounts or precariously stacked plates and bowls, any number of kitchen containers and all the dirty utensils that night shift didn't bother thoroughly checking for cleanliness before they put them away. Starting with a pile enables me to enjoy the satisfaction of a pile dwindling down until I have a rack full of clean dishes and a nice clean counter. Then I get to be proud of my accomplishment. In my job, I am never truly done with my work, it always carries to the next minute, hour, day week, month, quarter, year, whatever. When all the dirty dishes are clean, I'm done! Sure, more will be made dirty, but that is a different task that can also be completed.

On the days when my head hurts, my back hurts, I'm overly stressed, and I need to feel like I have accomplished something, I like to do the dishes.

Until I get home.

15:00 - 18 June 2005

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