Ahh, it couldn’t last forever. Generally our flatmates are great, and not around very much (plus, we’re pretty self-contained with our downstairs floor). Don’t get me wrong, there are perks. Company when you want it, awesome meals when we convince the resident chef to do us a solid, cheaper bills split more ways. We have a good camaraderie going on most of the time, almost Friends-like.
But the housekeeping honeymoon is definitely over.
I refuse to do what I tried to do in previous houses, and shoulder the majority of the work just so it gets done. As long as we’re here, I’ll simply live with common areas that quite aren’t up to my standards – again, this is okay as we have 3 rooms of our own downstairs – bedroom, little lounge, spare room – plus our own bathroom.
It feels like T and I have been in a pretty good housekeeping groove for our own real estate. He isn’t home as much as I am (that’s by choice, between sports + socialising) but I’m making a conscious effort to restrict my cleaning to ‘cleaning time’ when we’re both home. Yes, I have higher standards, and yes I’m home more often because I’m a homebody, but it’s really important to me not to be saddled with like 90% of the cleaning nonetheless.
This week’s links
A pretty awesome guide on starting a new job, the right way
Outrage over the housing market is justified
Ramifications of the recession – the physical and emotional edition
Musings about models of work, employment and entrepreneurship