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Tuesday 1st December 2009

Yesterday my dishwasher finally broke down for good. It's been dodgy for a while and I have been anticipating this moment for some time. The dishwasher was here seven years ago when I moved in and looked quite old then, so we mustn't mourn its passing too much. It was old. It had had a good life. It had died doing what it liked doing best. Cleaning my dirty stuff.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle Autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush.
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there;
I did not die.

Which is apt, except for "my grave" change that to "the skip down the road that belongs to someone else, but which you will dump me in the dead of night". And I promise to respect my dishwasher's wishes.
So I have no dishwasher.
And I promise that it is only a crazy coincidence that my girlfriend moved into my house today. Yes, I am 42 and I have never made such a commitment before - I was going to move in with a girlfriend in my mid-20s, but we got ripped off by a crooked estate agent who was just stealing deposits. He saved me.
And it's just a coincidence that I have given up my non-committal bachelor ways on the same day that my sink is full of dirty washing. Because I am a new man and think that men should take an equal share of the washing up duties. Except, you know, it's my house and I own it, so surely it's only fair that she pulls her weight a bit. Right fellas? At least until I buy a new dishwasher. At which point she's out on her ear. Unless she can wheedle her way into my affections in some other way, like by doing my laundry or something.
But from her point of view this is just the first step towards owning my house (all she has to do is marry me and then, even easier divorce me), so cleaning a few cups is a small price to pay for the scheming, house-stealing cow.
And I am happy to go along with it, because, for today at least, someone else did the washing up. My house is a small price to pay.
This is the most romantic day of my life.

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