What a joy to come home and clean the upper floor. Dusting, vacuuming, cleaning surfaces etcetera. What a fun job! No, not really. Dust as hell, my partner is ignorant to dust. I’m allergic. It’s bad for me to clean the shit I’m allergic to. I feel it itching everywhere now. My lungs also start gathering slime. I do the upper floor. I don’t go downstairs much. I hate the living room. My partner puts clean clothes, gym bags and other idiot stuff in the living room, even though we have a laundry room and a big closet. Nothing needs to be visible anywhere else. My partner has problems putting stuff where it belongs. It is lazy. It does help, but it also messes up everywhere. It has always done that. I no longer do the laundry. I did it for 20 years and my partner perhaps helped 1 year in total of those. I have 19 years to not care about washing. I don’t do dishes either. I don’t do the litter box either, I am allergic to my pets… Well. I vacuum. I pick up stuff. I tidy it up. I plan. I act. I do. I don’t cook, but neither does my partner. We cook for the kid. I do what needs to be done for the kid. The partner too. My partner cooks during the weekends mostly. Well. I did a lot for so many years, I just stoped doing them. My partner does the dishes, washes, litter box and weekend dinner 1-2 times per week. I don’t like cleaning. I might get a helper when salary is up and running full-time. I do a lot, even if I don’t do what my partner does. I run a household. I am “free” four weekdays from those must’s do’s. Oh yeah. It’s like vacation.