Beyond the Last Dish

Owing to all my pro-bono work coming home to roost, despite months of preplanning, at the same time and with the same "we'd like to have this in print by Worldcon" (and at the same time as necessary paying work), I have transcended the stage where I really ought to do the dishes, passed through a stage of obstinate refusal to do any dishes in sick futile personal protest, and entered the highest realm of dish horror.

This morning I found an old but sort of clean mug in the backest back of the cabinet, which allowed me to have coffee. There are still some clean butter knives, so I was able to stir rather than slosh the cream and Splenda.

Once I run out of butter knives, this could get ugly.