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Tess Catalano "Take Back the Night" and other academic essays, 1982
Catalano Paragraph C Page 1
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[handwritten] PARAGRAPH C CATALANO The cats had been at the vets since Tuesday when on Saturday my roommate angrily confronted me about my negligence concerning the dishes [that week] [Don't you need to be specific here to make the later point register?] We had agreed to alternate months and this was my month to do them. She informed me that the other day she had wanted to fix some brocoli and rice, but could not because there were no clean dishes for her to use. I pondered this. I had not been terrifically busy in the last weeks, so there wasn't a good reason for the dishes not being done. I agreed with that I had let them go too long, but told her that quite honestly, I was at a loss as to why. As I unpiled dirty dishes from the sink into smaller piles around the counter, I recalled the various snacks and dinners each had cooked and served. There was the big breafast from Saturday right on top, under that was the spaghetti dinner from Friday night. Thursday's lunch dishes were scattered throughout, but something was missing. I couldn't quite place it as I did the chore, and it didn't dawn on me until the next morning. Between times the cats arrived home, with much celebration around the house. New toys were presented and the musty smell of wet cat food once again permeated the kitchen air. The next morning I awoke and padded into the kitchen , with the Sunday paper crisp and cold from the front step under my arm. Pheobe had long since left for yoga class, and as per our usual routine I started the coffee and lit the stove to make french toast for when she returned. I glanced into the sink [basin] and remembering our conversation the day before began to clear the sink and run the water to do the dirty dishes. Underneath the dishes from last night's dinner I found the answer to the "dirty dish pile up" during the week. At the bottom of the sink were three fake wooden dirty cat food dishes, soaking in tired soapy water with fleck of cat food floating at the top.. Usually the sight of them revolted me, yet this time I was elated. In the past I have been known to throw fits at the sights of them. I instantly draw the hottest water to clean them and any surrounding dish to avoid the possible contamination. And here was the answer: with no revolting dirty cat food dishes lurking in the sink this past week there had been no psychological impetus to
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[handwritten] PARAGRAPH C CATALANO The cats had been at the vets since Tuesday when on Saturday my roommate angrily confronted me about my negligence concerning the dishes [that week] [Don't you need to be specific here to make the later point register?] We had agreed to alternate months and this was my month to do them. She informed me that the other day she had wanted to fix some brocoli and rice, but could not because there were no clean dishes for her to use. I pondered this. I had not been terrifically busy in the last weeks, so there wasn't a good reason for the dishes not being done. I agreed with that I had let them go too long, but told her that quite honestly, I was at a loss as to why. As I unpiled dirty dishes from the sink into smaller piles around the counter, I recalled the various snacks and dinners each had cooked and served. There was the big breafast from Saturday right on top, under that was the spaghetti dinner from Friday night. Thursday's lunch dishes were scattered throughout, but something was missing. I couldn't quite place it as I did the chore, and it didn't dawn on me until the next morning. Between times the cats arrived home, with much celebration around the house. New toys were presented and the musty smell of wet cat food once again permeated the kitchen air. The next morning I awoke and padded into the kitchen , with the Sunday paper crisp and cold from the front step under my arm. Pheobe had long since left for yoga class, and as per our usual routine I started the coffee and lit the stove to make french toast for when she returned. I glanced into the sink [basin] and remembering our conversation the day before began to clear the sink and run the water to do the dirty dishes. Underneath the dishes from last night's dinner I found the answer to the "dirty dish pile up" during the week. At the bottom of the sink were three fake wooden dirty cat food dishes, soaking in tired soapy water with fleck of cat food floating at the top.. Usually the sight of them revolted me, yet this time I was elated. In the past I have been known to throw fits at the sights of them. I instantly draw the hottest water to clean them and any surrounding dish to avoid the possible contamination. And here was the answer: with no revolting dirty cat food dishes lurking in the sink this past week there had been no psychological impetus to
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