It’s like the universe finally responded to my constant expletive-infused mutters under my breath about the ceaseless stream of laundry and dishes when I heard about National No Housework Day (NNHD). I wanted to throw the vacuum down and fist-bump myself because I knew in a nanosecond that I would attempt to turn this day into something of a religious experience.
If you are anything like me, then you too will mark a fat red circle on your calendar, come to the realization that not cleaning for a whole day only triples the workload, then freak the fuck out and plan like Martha Stewart during the holidays to make this day worth its weight in gold. Because, really, NNHD has the potential to be like a warm-up to Mother’s Day, right?
Ready? Here we go:
Step 1: Freak the Fuck Out
The day before NNHD, it is imperative that you run around your house cleaning like the possessed mom on a mission that you will be. Get everything as orderly as possible. Shove things in drawers. Empty trash and laundry baskets. Toss all the toys into a bin. Put all the clean dishes away and drag a mop across the floors. You want your house to shine, but you want to make sure that you have a glint of determination and I’d-Cut-a-Bitch about you while you do it so that everyone in your house knows just how serious this made-up holiday is.
Step 2: Calm the Fuck Down
This is when you realize that it’s one day off from chores and who cares if the piles of shit grow larger for one dumb day, right? You can do anything else. There won’t be a dusting rag or vacuum attached to you. The whirring noise of a washing machine or dishwasher will not echo in your ears. Who cares, you think to yourself.
Step 3: Hustle
When the big day finally arrives, you will try to fit in every single thing that you never have time to do. Your schedule will get crammed tighter than the closet after you threaten kingdom come if the kids don’t clean their damn rooms. National No Housework Day could mean freedom, you think to yourself.
Step 4: Ignorance Is Bliss (and So Is Alcohol)
By the end of NNHD, your house looks like a giant shitshow. Dishes are everywhere, clothes are everywhere, toys and school shit are everywhere, shoes litter the floor right in front of doors, laundry baskets are empty, but the kitchen sink is full. You begin to think that this bullshit holiday is just another way to prove that your job is a relentless Sisyphean task. So you ignore it and pour a glass of wine. You might even give the dishes the middle finger as you breeze right by them en route to the couch where you plan to actually sit.
Step 5: The Holiday Aftermath
The day after National No Housework Day will be like an ugly hangover. You’ll have to face your messy house and pick up that vacuum and dust rag again. In some ways, this is a nice little pocket of time and excuse to ignore other parts of your life while you slowly pick up the disaster festering in every corner of your house.
On second thought, National No Housework Day is starting to seem like total bullshit. Why not enact the IDGAF method of cleaning? As in, as long as my house is livable on a day-to-day basis and my family is able to function with some measurable happiness, then we call that a win. A whole day dedicated to not cleaning a house? What is this, fucking Stepford? Oh, please, internet. I bet I could come up with better made-up national holidays. Why don’t we give National Everyone Quit Complaining to Mom Day a whirl?