Why I choose to celebrate dirty dishes
My cute, almost perfect apartment does not come with a dishwasher. This was a big point of contention with my ex and ex-roommate.
Dishes, generally cleanliness — it all piled up like the dishes on both sides of our sink. I always kept the right side, the side with the garbage disposal, and found myself with an empty side of the sink more often than not.
A lot has changed since I had to last ask someone to do their dishes, or remind them to take out the garbage. Living alone has its perks, but there’s one significant drawback. There is no one to blame but myself for the mess.
My cat occasionally pukes but he’s blameless in all rights.
Now when the pile of recycling or dirty dishes on the counter sends irritable pings to my brain, “Hey, can we do something about this? It’s bugging us” I’m not able to re-direct that frustration to anyone but myself. This has been good for my toxic people-pleasing tendencies, forced me to face the music head-on.
One of the things I’m most grateful for in my home is how lived-in it feels. My bed isn’t made, there are stacks of books on all the tables, some plants are thriving and others are shriveled. It’s homely, human.
I’ve learned to celebrate my dirty dishes in the same way.
I’m a human that has to eat, and remembering to do that is often a challenge. I keep protein shakes in the fridge for when food just doesn’t feel right in my mouth, but I know I need something. I keep snacks like crunchy cucumbers and spicy pickles around to stimulate my sometimes sleepy digestive track, to remember that food is good.
I miss hunger cues like it’s my full-time job, and when I did have a full-time job, I would berate myself for missing lunch at home, or for needing a snack at an inopportune time. The rigidity of my schedule soothed my need for structure but didn’t help the push and pull of my hunger and energy to cook.
I’m not above eating out, and I use it when I need it — but I’ve been on a mission of balance. Choosing simple, easy food that doesn’t require a lot of time. Because waiting for take-out isn’t always an option, usually, when I’m hungry, I realize it in an instant.
It’s not like needing to pee, where I press snooze on my bladder for a few hours. Hunger wakes me up, keeps me from falling asleep, and steps right on my keyboard mid-sentence, announcing “I’m here, NOW” I’ve usually got about 30 minutes before zombie-mode takes over and I’m too tired to think
So, I need food that’s ready when I am. Intuitive eating or something like that. Snacks that satiate me, soothe the pangs of hunger, and help me roll through the day. I hate making dishes but hate wasting time deciding what to make, even more than that.
In the month that I’ve been without a day job, I’ve begun to do a lot of experimenting. Having lived alone for a few months, I’ve really tried to observe my own rhythms. Not every day is exactly the same, but I’m finding my preferences, high brain time, low brain time, work time and rest time, etc.
But cooking, and feeding myself, have become much more enjoyable. I like cooking around 10 am, and from 2–3 pm. Dinner happens sometime after that, it’s not always like clockwork. I have coffee now in the morning, tea in the afternoon, and snacks along the way.
And I mostly seem to do dishes on Wednesdays and the weekend.
I’m not sure when Wednesday became dishes day, but in my mind, I can see it clearly — Wednesday is purple, and that is chores and dishes day at my home.
Wednesday is a good day for dishes because I’m often home, under-stimulated, but not interested in extra phone calls. I always watch an episode of DND and wear my ear protection while I cook and clean. Wednesdays are MY night in the kitchen, and I look forward to it now.
But I didn’t before.
I celebrate my dishes now, and my time in the kitchen, because it’s evidence that I’m feeding myself. I’m all about numbers, so when I can count 5–7 coffee cups, take out containers, dirty pots, and pans, I’m choosing to celebrate.
Look at me, I remembered to eat this week! Seeing myself go through leftovers, and cooking using all the dishes feels like a big win when I used to go to bed to avoid feeling hungry.
I used to say, “there’s nothing I can do about it right now, it’s too late to eat, so we might as well sleep”
That’s when I started getting snacks and protein shakes, for when the hunger tried to sing me a song and I was too tired to do anything about it. Between working full time, and eventually working full-time for myself, I needed to buy food I knew how to cook and knew I would eat.
Making dishes is the end goal of my habit, for choosing food that I like to eat and fits with my hunger needs. Not the process of making the food, but the results: dirty dishes.
I’m celebrating them, the same way I celebrate submitted content, and paid invoices with work. It’s a win.
