I Hate Housework

Today is Saturday, that means housework morning. AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!
I effing hate cleaning it is so effing boring. I try to kid myself :This is my lovely house that I have worked hard for and these are all my lovely things that I care for. By cleaning I am honouring the house.
As my nephew would say:Yeah, Gina yeah!(in a very sarcastic tone)
Its the sheer repetition that gets me. How many times have I polished that frigging table? Getting on my hands and knees to clean round the back of the loo -what a charming way to spend my time. Steve does the housework as well but he hates it as much as I do- in fact I think he hates it even more because he feels I'm judging his standard of cleaning. He is right, I am ( I know I'm a terrible person - I can't help it.)
Then there are the bigger issues - really all the paint work needs renewing but neither of us can face that. The Robbos are not natural decorators. We need a new carpet for the hall way and stairs but there is no point while we still have the dogs.
The sad thing is I can't not do the housework because a dirty house makes me fidgety. I just wish I could afford a cleaner.