I've been wondering recently why we can't seem to keep the apartment looking nice.
Is it because I'm in Chinese class and not pulling my weight in housework? You try working and studying - both "full time" - and see how much free time you have to do things like mop the kitchen floor.
Well, that's true (thank you Brendan, for doing your share and some of mine), but I don't think that can fully explain why the place is looking so worn out these days.
Is it that it's an 'old' apartment - long-term Taiwan residents will understand my meaning - and therefore I'm just noticing now that despite our spiffy decorating job, nothing can hide the ancient tile floor, cheap wood and dingy plastic ceiling?
That's true too, but I always thought we did a good job making our accommodations comfortable and maybe even attractive.
Is it that we're both secretly slobs?
No. I mean I hate housework and I really would hire a maid if I felt like paying for one. I'm sure Brendan doesn't like it either. Some people claim to enjoy it; I think they're lying. But we're not slobs. A little messy, sure, but no worse than your average person.
I think, just maybe, the reason our apartment never looks as nice as we intend it to...
Our very own fortune kitty - we even named him Zhao Cai if you remember - who can be very sweet when he wants to be.
But when he doesn't want to be, it's like living with, and cleaning up after, a small tornado that continually whirls around the house, spinning out whorls of destruction as he whips through.
Nothing is safe, nothing is sacred. We recently found a pile of rubber sushi (the little erasers from Japan that look like food; I LOVE them) under one chair, which he'd collected from the bookshelf.
He got hold of my crystal ring; sure, it's not set with gemstones. But I bought it in Prague, it's Swarovski, and it's designer. He batted it around while we were out and now it's missing a crystal.
...and if anyone's seen a silver and amethyst earring from Thailand, let me know.
...and it would be really nice if we could leave our USB drives on the desk and not worry that they'll be batted under the couch.
Don't get me wrong, I love the fuzzy little Tasmanian devil. He's an absolute gem when he wants to be, all cuddling in laps and touching noses with you.
Note: he chose this position on his own. When he's in a certain mood he likes to be held like a baby. Note the "Boxing Panda: Float like a butterfly, sting like a panda" and "Onion Boy: Makes girls cry but good for their health" stickers on the computer, and the demonic green eyes of kitty-head.
But I'd also really like my earring back.