Day 1: Do a Load of Dishes.

Today, I did a load of dishes. You don’t know how proud I am. In fact, I probably shouldn’t even be trying to convey how proud I am that I did the dishes, because if you began to grasp the magnitude of my giddy self-appreciation, you would be overcome with a sense of pity so strong that your head might explode. And if your head didn’t explode, you would be overcome with laughter so loud that I’d be able to hear it through the internet and then I’d have to hunt you down and stab you to regain my pride.

So probably best you don’t know.

If you are anything like me, your galley (see what I did there? I’m so incredibly clever) is still reeling from a weekend of Cards Against Humanity, drinking, waffles, mimosas, and coming home from a Fetish Party at 4 am to collapse with a hangover and not move at all on Sunday. You’re not quite that that much like me? Well, insert whatever in the space. Point is, do your damn dishes. Get to it. I’ll wait.

Achievement: If you have a friend that is a neat freak, invite him over and get him drunk. Turns out you will be unable to stop him from feverishly scrubbing the kitchen at 2:30 am. Your mileage may vary. Of course, then you have to stop making messes, or it’ll be dirty by the end of the weekend. Your mileage on this may also vary.