Ah yes, welcome back to another episode of Jacky Loses Her Sanity in Real Time – featuring everyone’s favorite side characters: Dirty Dishes, Passive-Aggression, and a surprise cameo by Jerry the Cockroach and His Filthy Friends.
So, what’s new this week? Not much… just the usual descent into madness. I had what the experts call a „crashout“, aka that moment when your soul leaves your body after cleaning the kitchen for the 20th damn time – and somehow, the dishes still multiply like horny gremlins.
Let me paint you a picture: every plate in existence was chilling in the sink like it’s Coachella for dirty dishes. So I did what any unhinged saint would do – I cleaned it all. Wiped the surfaces. Blessed the counters. Even did a TED Talk on why we don’t use the demon-possessed dishwasher, because it literally makes things dirtier.
Next day? The dishwasher was full. Again. Of course. So I repeated myself like a broken record with trust issues.
Then came The Leak. Oh yes. I was finally eating – a rare moment of peace – when I noticed a mysterious brown liquidoozing out of the trash bag like it was auditioning for CSI. It smelled like trauma and looked like a failed science experiment. Ruben, bless him, offered to take out the trash and kindly asked Thaddäus for help. Twice.
And Thaddäus? My man decided it was the perfect time to go play football. And when I dared to suggest maybe he helps out a little, I got hit with:
„You can do it yourself“
„You talk as much as the day is long“
Excuse me?? EXCUSE ME??
If audacity were a currency, this guy could buy Twitter.
But guess what? I cleaned again. Even the cursed dishwasher. AGAIN. I wiped the hellspawn goo. And then I had my villain origin speech:
“I’m not your mother. If I were, you’d be grounded, beaten with a chancla, and sleeping next to that trash bag.”
And now? I’m done. DONE. I will not touch a single toilet streak, dried love stains, or your leftover burrito bits on the shower walls. Nada. I only wanted a clean kitchen so leaving would be easier. But nope. I’m tapping out like it’s WWE and I just took a folding chair to the face.
And just so you know – I will pay back Mrs. Freaney for the deposit she kindly fronted us. Because after the state this place is in? The landlord’s gonna need holy water and a flamethrower.
Oh, and Jerry? Our pet cockroach?
He brought FRIENDS.
They’re hosting a cockroach rave in the drain outside bathroom two. And yeah, in Spain, cockroaches are normal. But not when your apartment looks like it starred in The Ring.
Last fun thing? I got watched by a praying mantis while I was showering. Girl had front row seats. Might as well start selling tickets next time.
Mic drop.
Jacky out.
More audacity and cockroaches here on my Tumblr Blog: https://afib-in-spain.tumblr.com/