Dear Housework,

We need to talk.

I know we have been together for a long time (ever since I moved out of home at 19 in fact) but lately I have really begun to question our compatibility.

There is no nice way to put this, so I’m going to just come right out and say it.  I do not enjoy your company anymore.  I don’t think I ever did.  And in the words of my old mate Meatloaf, ‘there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you.’

I hate it that you make me feel guilty for wanting to sit down and write, guilty, for wanting to get out of the house without you and guilty for wanting to spend my time with other people, doing other things.

I feel like you are always in the back of my mind, nagging at me!  You are just  way too demanding.  Nothing I ever do seems to be enough.  You just want more, and more, and more!

I’m sorry if this hurts you, but when we are together I often fantasise about doing other things.  I’m sorry.  I have tried spicing it up, and wearing rubber gloves or an apron to…you know…get in the mood, but it just doesn’t work.  I’m afraid you just don’t do it for me.

I know we’ve had this discussion before, and I also realise that you are not prepared to move out.  (Personally, I think this is a mistake.  I’m sure we’d both be happier apart. )

So, I have a proposition that I think may suit us both.  What do you think about possibly seeing other people?  I could get someone in once a week to satisfy your needs.  There are women you know that are willing to perform all those disgusting things you like in exchange for money!  We could be discreet about it.  No need to tell anyone.  It could be our little secret!

While you and the cleaner ‘get it on,’ I was thinking I could maybe, pop on some make-up, drive into town, and pick up a book.  I won’t go into details but  I’ll be honest with you, a night in bed with a hard-back book  sounds like heaven.

No need to answer me straight away.  Just have a think about it though please, and let me know.

Your slave,

Jolene