I've learned a few things in a rather short amount of time, ranging from minor to profound.
Life Lesson #1: Cactus loves cooking
This has been known for some time, but now that I'm responsible for feeding myself 24/7 (instead of showing up at the dining hall and demanding to be fed), this has become more apparent. I don't just cook to eat either: if I did, I would make quickly prepared meals. As it is, cooking has become an enjoyable task, that I'm willing to spend over an hour a day doing. For big dinners, I've been seen in the kitchen for as much as twice that, chopping, sauteing, stewing, and of course tasting. I seem to follow my family's example of following recipes only loosely if at all. Since they have far more experience than I do, this has led to odd and rather bland meals thus far. Fortunately, Alien and my friends are helpful as well as encouraging, so my culinary skills should see improvement. At least I'm under spicing and not over spicing: less wasteful if nothing else. And I'm still a pro cookie baker, so that has to count for something.
Life Lesson #2: Cactus keeps a clean house
My mother laughed at me when I told her this. "Seriously," she asked. "Are you sure you're my daughter? The one that found Halloween candy in her backpack at Easter?" Yes mom, same girl. But where she had done the cleaning for me at home, our apartment refuses to clean itself. Alien helps, but being a chem e keeps him on a tight schedule. So now, when I come home from class, I clean. I clean before I read, before I check the internet, before I eat. To be honest, the last is probably the reason I clean: I can't STAND a dirty kitchen. I sweep every three days, and wipe down the counters and wash the sinks weekly. I even cleaned out the fridge today. Just because it needed done. I cleaned my BATHROOM today, with no one telling me to. I used to cry about doing that chore. And if you want to know why an apartment is so different than having a dorm... don't ask. It just is.
Life Lesson #3: Cactus STILL HATES doing the dishes
Yes, even if it means cluttering my kitchen. I won't touch them unless forced with confrontation. I pick them up off of the coffee table, night stand, desk, what have you, and BRING them to the kitchen, but the dishes are Alien's job. Thankfully, he's a trooper, and more than willing to do them himself. Having a dishwasher (the machine, not the husband) helps too. But it seems to have flunked out of dish washing school. It loudly protests to it's job for the whole duration of the washing, and then refuses to rinse used food out of the back right corner. It leaves dried particles on all the glasses, and hard water spots have become part of life. It does seem to have learned the "heat cycle" lessons though: everything that comes out of it, while possibly dirty, is certainly hot enough to kill lifeforms large and small. With all of this evidence, I have drawn the conclusion that my dishwasher houses a temperamental dragon. Excavations are scheduled for the future to find the creature to keep as a pet, or sell for a hill of gold. The end result will be entirely dependent on how much grocery money we have when I find him.
Life Lesson #4: Despite all other cleaning, Cactus' bedroom will always be messy because Alien shares a room with her now.
Since no one needs to go in there besides Alien and I, the bedroom has become a site of neglect. This is largely due to Alien's ritualistic desire to throw his clothes at least five feet from his body, and ANYWHERE but the hamper. In an attempt to coexist with the creature, I have made peace with the garment flinging, but have demanded that the bed be made at all times. He helped make the bed once, right after a trip to Bed Bath and Beyond where we bought disgustingly expensive and luxurious bedding, but this was largely because he wanted to test the sheets. My further requests to make the bed have ended with him rolling about on the covers, cocooning himself, and inevitably throwing himself on the ground, laughing maniacally all the while.
I don't ask him to make the bed anymore.
