Keeping house

Another little posting on the minutiae of my daily life. Today: housekeeping. Every day is housekeeping day. My early-morning routines (with more than a dozen parts, taking at least half an hour) include washing out urinals, swabbing the bathroom floor (I have to use my feet), cleaning the toilet, and emptying the subsidiary wastebaskets into the master wastebasket in the kitchen. [Digression. Yes, I’m a highly organized neatnik. Have been since childhood, which made me a very odd boy. (How like a fag, you say, and I say too. But that seems to be how I came off the shelf, so I ran with it.) Eventually, when my parents’ lives had reached the point where my mother was in too much spinal pain to do any housework (sad stories here) and my father was casting about trying to find a new life for them, they started using my abilities and inclinations. I took over some of the cooking, and then they flat-out hired me, with a real salary (which I put in a bank account, because I’d need it for…