getting dressed = 1 spooon
walking to grocery = 1 spoon
walking back from grocery = 1 spoon.
carrying something heavy = 2 spoons.
total: 5 spoons in 10 minutes.
I get home, I'm hungry after that herlocian effort. I go into the kitchen - to face The Mess. The Mess is this, any square inch not covered by somthing must be irradicated. Plastic, clothe, dirty pots, pans, utiencils, gause, pills, 1/2 full cups, empty cups, paper, condinments, halve eaten food, fruit, medicians, and verious misc stuff that happened to be at hand. My This Is Shit meter screamed into the 2000 rps red zone.
Everything got put; in the sink, in the cabinets, in the fridge, in the trash, in ONE SINGLE BOX, as approprate (by my standards, not theirs).
putting things away = 2 spoons
cleaning counter = 2 spoons
cooking lunch = 1 spoon
total: 5 spoons
total for day: 10 spoons
total spoons for spending per day: 5 spoons
which means, tomorrow will be a day spent in bed. but by GOD, when i go in the kitchen, i will see the counter...... maybe.
edit: what, 2 hours later, i go back in the kitchen. Repair work needed: clean counters (again), put the meds back into the box, clean 2 pots, 1 spoon, 1 knife, put food away, throw away tishues, put towel back on rack.. Me: "hubby, the pot is dirty". MIL: no, its not. I just cooked some rice in it and rinced it out. Me: yes, it is dirty. MIL: no, its not. Me; YES. IT. IS. DIRTY. MIL: shrugs/laughs. (the pot had rice grains and slime inside)
This is the firmest I've ever been with MIL. usually I just give her her own way. Less energy spent. But I've reached my Truely Pissed Off Point.