A spot of domestic unrest has loomed over my horizon, an offchance remark on Twitter yesterday led to
thisispoki and I having a standoff over household duties. He sulked most of last night about my public Twittering that I was unhappy with the level of chore engagement. This was somewhat of a reversion to his previous passive aggressive ways, as I'd
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I had this exact same argument with Al when we moved in. He couldn't understand why I was so obsessed with making the house pretty and having every room looking pulled together. He still doesn't understand why I need the house to look perfect when we have guests, or why it's not ok for the multitude of throws on the sofa to not be straight or clean and fresh.
I tried explaining to him how I felt about it, and how I feel judged when people (especially family, and female friends who I have a great deal of respect for) come to visit.
For me, having a presentable house, especially when we have guests is a gesture of my respect for them. I don't want people who I love and admire to endure a visit in a house that I myself would not be comfortable in.
Your way of explaining was far more eloquent than mine, and should the same argument happen again, I'll have a much better way of explaining how I feel.
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