I love doing all the housework. No, seriously. It’s how I can feel connected to the household, seeing as I don’t have a job and all. Doing every single bit of housework in our apartment fills me with a deep sense of satisfaction and not at all with a blinding rage coupled with an overwhelming desire to light everything on fire and be done with it. It sure is awesome! No equality for me, thanks – I am woman, hear me scrub!

I would love to wax further poetic about how utterly fulfilled and happy I am, but dang it – those 4 bags of garbage won’t take themselves out!

My rage is blinding AND seething.