I hate cleaning. I think if someone came over to my house when I was an adult, they would find dirty dishes and dust covering everything, carpets covered in crumbs, moldy bathtubs and dirty toilets.
Or maybe when I grow up I'll magically turn into my obsessively clean mother. Well, she's not obsessive. Thank god. But if a friend of mine is coming over everything must be scrubbed until it shines. Or maybe once a month she'll have us pull out all the stops and we'll have to vacuum every inch of the place.
I suppose all of that isn't too bad. Vacuuming is quick, if terribly loud and clunky. I do hate washing the floor, though. It's like, lifting up the weight of all the steps pressing down with a dirty rag. It's... suffocating.
The worst is when someone cleans my room for me. I like my dirty room. And when it's clean it doesn't feel like mine at all.
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