A miracle happened a few days ago. God actually did the dishes. By this I mean he immersed all of them in hot water with soap, possibly rubbed them with a sponge or wet rag, rinsed them, and piled them into the dish drainer, where they air dried completely. I witnessed this after being gone in the evening, having fled to a friend’s house so I could sleep without having to listen to God work himself up into one of his endless rages.
But this miracle has not prevented God from coming forward with more commandments, handed down on high to me, the deeply inferior female being. According to God, the silverware drainer is “really gross”, despite the fact that I clean it periodically and God NEVER DOES. God has now told me that if I do not put the rinsed silverware either handle up/or handle down( I can’t remember which, having succumbed to my astonishment that God is so blindly and tyrannically OCD), that bacterial safety cannot be obtained. He was definitely not pleased that I bluntly refused to accept this new commandment as red, telling him basically he is full of shit because he has never done ANY dishes, EVER.
He started calling me names. He emphatically declared “YOU ARE A MONSTER” several times. I told him that I am not, that he is, and started telling him he has 60 days to move out. I returned, hours later, there was a silent truce, and I left in the evening to pick a friend at the airport and stayed at her house overnight. I told him I would be staying overnight, he didn’t remember, and called me at 3 am to find out where I was.
God’s latest dishwashing peeve is that I have left soapy water in the dishpan overnight. He has decreed this taboo, not suspecting that he is the one who has been leaving the dishpan full of cold, greasy dishwater with food in it and dishes that need to be scrubbed for about 3 weeks since he began this campaign. He leaves buckets full of greasy water from detailing his vehicles, flea laden dirt water from combing the cat, and open cans of cat food without tops unto eternity but is not aware he’s the one doing it. Such are the ravages of malnutrition brought on by decades of substance abuse coupled with severe abuse from infancy. There is no short term memory, and God has regular fuck you fights with himself over the fact he can’t find stuff, like his lighter. Lately God has been telling himself he needs to quit smoking pot but has no real idea it’s possible. I say nothing, as usual, having exhausted any kind of hope he could ever hear what I have to say. I know he will never listen to or believe anything I say.