Playing house is just as fun as a grownup.

Or just as lame, depending how one looks at it.

Took a break from painting the endless Poles of Hilarity to acquire household appliances yesterday. Now I am running them all at once. Mwahahahahhahahah! Dishwasher, washer, dryer, and -- well, actually I'm attempting to make head or tails of the floor cleaner thingy. The Man is renovating like a madman, and I have hope that soon I will no longer live in a mottled green bedroom with one dark purple accent wall. The rant on the former owners of this house and their taste -- or lack of it -- really deserves its own post at some other time.

How did people deal before appliances? Six months of washing dishes, the laundromat, and scrubbing a house full of tile on my hands and knees (the cat barfs a lot) has driven me around the bend. Around the bend for me, and that's saying something. Can you imagine me 200 years ago? Let's just hope I was a man. Or brain-damaged in some way. Or had the mad love for the washing of things. Good God.

Hell, one day of this shit even with appliances and I'm over the novelty. Whoo hoo, I'm a grownup with appliances yay. Time for the cabana boy with little umbrella drinks in my universe. As I recall, I wasn't so thrilled with playing house in kindergarten, either. There was this bossy girl who tried to make everyone else eat her Play-Doh food (it's non-toxic, after all. Hell, I bet her cooking to this day is non-toxic, too). There was the weird kid who ate her Play-Doh food. That game got old fast.

The good news is that we will have clean clothes and dishes for the first time since Gulf Wars (stop saying "eeeuuw," I can hear you from here, dammit). The only downside of the fun of running all the appliances at once today was now there's no hot water for either of us to take a shower. Must re-think this idea of "appliance fun."