so i'm breaking it down in to bite size pieces. i dropped off the linens at the laundry mat. i moved the smaller sofa in to the living room and arranged for my neighbor to claim the large couch. i traded milk crates and book shelves so my extensive film collection has room to breath.
but the thing that provokes anxiety and the urge to cry is the mountain of dirty dishes. all have been soaked if not rinsed at one point or another. but my sink is slow to drain. and the dishrack is too small. and i have a million excuses. but i am finally tackling the problem.
i wrote an email to the lovely lusty lady (side note: the first time i saw ms. rkb, she was reading dish washing erotica at remote lounge).
i would like to pay you $50 to wash my dishes. i'll pay $100 if you want to do it in your undies and cute shoes. think of it as column-fodder, plus we would get to hang out. are you up for it?
i was excited about engaging in sex work as a client. after all, if i am not a john, would i be a jane?
when she did not respond in the same evening, as she is prone to do, i began to worry that i had offended her. worries were laid aside upon the reception of her eager email this afternoon.
hi miss hotness! I will wash your dishes for free silly...I really do like it, plus they're your dishes. And I'd love to see you. How about...will you make chicken and dumplings and let me have my way with you? That's worth much more than $100. I will wear cute undies indeed, maybe even buy new ones, and I have new shoes I would love to show you.
i did a happy dance around ms. dacia's apartment. perhaps this date will give new meaning to the phrase dirty dishes.