I completely understand why Thanksgiving is a 4 day federal holiday weekend for most: one day to cook and eat and three days to clean up. I guess us folks in the service industry are only given one day off, because we have the art of feeding hundreds and spit shining the kitchen moments later down to a science. Not fair. And not acurate.
This year I made one side dish to Thanksgiving pot luck and a grand vegan dish to enjoy at home for the week. I’m still scraping gravy spatter off the tile. And I am in day three of trying to clean my roasting pans to good as new condition. I’m sad to say, that might not happen.
I am a little amazed at how my neighbors are able to able to rise after the carb-loaded festivities on the November 25th and have their outside Christmas decorations aglow on the eve of the 26th. I spent Friday stripping the first layer of grime from my kitchen before the brewhouse shift. While I was at work I secretly prayed Claude would lap anything edible of the countertops. He was lazy. Guess he was coming off the food coma longer than expected.
Saturday was an unexpected day off and even though I had great plans for cleaning and decorating I decided napping and mindless television was what my soul truly needed. I did unload the dishwasher.
On Sunday, the kitchen was 90% clean before I left for the brewhouse. The vacuum never made it out of the closet nor did the Christmas decorations make it down from their storage shelf. The cat was excited about the former and disappointed about the later.
The brewhouse on the other hand is in full holiday mode: red and green and tinsely and wrapped in a selection of holiday music and gift card cheer.
It’s a little said when one’s workplace is more domestic than one’s domicile. sigh. Where do I sign up for the careers with four day weekends?