I am a domestic Goddess.

But I revolt sometimes and really mess my place up. It helps to have my own apartment. I use a new cereal bowl every time. I eat a lot of cereal, and I use a new goddamn bowl and spoon every time. When I wash them, about two weeks later I call myself a dirty lazy glutton. But no one can see the cereal bowls. So I continue my cereal masochism over and over. One time when my sisters and I were young, my mom got tired of her martyrdom as Supreme Laundress of all towels. We used towels like crazy. It was back when we were preteen which is like being a teen anyway. You feel dirty and pudgy all the time, so you shower and think you’re glorious and pretty afterwards. My mom comes from the laundry room with a Sharpie and a sinister look that only harried moms get. I mean those were devil eyes. She takes a big damp towel off the floor and writes BRYNN in black letters, with pure rage. Then she took two more floppy towels and did the same for my sisters. With those sparkly mad eyes she said something like “one towel a day” All I remember is her wild rage though. I liked my mom most then, because she was believable. She just couldn't’t take it anymore. She shouldn't’t have taken it. Some of her best role modeling was when she snapped like that. I think I’ll throw all my bowls out my window except one. So I only use one bowl at a time. Or, I’ll write BRYNN on my bowl to remind myself that I can’t keep washing dishes. It’s punishing and I’m better than that.