emotional labor

The dirty work of being a female; or, cleaning the house

The dirty work of being a female; or, cleaning the house

The nervous, excited, third-date energy was going to manifest itself into something productive, dammit. And before I had properly considered the future implications of what I was about to do, I put on an apron and started cleaning the plates and cutlery that were overflowing the sink. As I soaped up the mess, we looked at each other, grinning, and I made a joke about already being barefoot in the kitchen.