W-T-F

So I've been busting my ass on the house. I'm tired of it being sterile white and having no color. I'm tired of it looking like I don't give a shit about it (which I didn't, before). I put a lot of work into it and I -still- have to ride people in the house to pick up after themselves.

I mean -- seriously. What in the fuck is so hard about washing your dish or doing 7 dinner dishes (including the pots!) because I don't feel well that night? The lack of respect is astounding. I can't even explain it in words how shitty it makes me feel that I put so much work into the house and not one person could even load a gd dishwasher so that when I woke up, I didn't have it to do.

They might as well just bend over and ask me to wipe their ass, too.

This is what I deal with day in and day out and they wonder why I gave up before and just let it go to shit. This is the reason. I can't function like this. Things have to be neat or I get depressed. It's a sickness, I know but....help me out just a little, huh?

I make big meals for dinner with little mess. I'm not asking them to clean shit off the walls. I'm asking them to clean an effin' crock pot for Christ's sake. I try to clean as I go because *I* do the damn dishes most of the time and I'd like to sit down after dinner and relax after picking up after everyone. And if *I* don't do the dishes, the dishes get half assed done. Don't get put away, etc, etc...

I'm just disgusted this morning. I barely got out of my room after taking the sheets off to be washed, wandered into the kitchen and saw the mess like a slap in the face. I mean, I was sick and they left them there like "oh well, she'll get to them in the morning". Just...rude.

Gotta love being a mother.