The past few months were a whirlwind in my life. I moved, started a challenging full-time job, and got married. Whew.
Those are all my disclaimers for having to admit that we hired someone to clean our house about a month ago. We called it our wedding-present-to-ourselves, when really it was more of an oh-shit-we-don’t-even-know-where-to-begin present. Our house had gotten away from us.
So we departed on the journey of finding someone (a saint) to give us a deep clean, a clean slate, to start from.
I was both exhilirated and embarrased at the thought of hiring someone to scrub my dirt. As a woman, I’ve been told by the TV that I am supposed to delight in the sparkle of Pledge, and I kind of do when I have time. However, I was working from noon-10 pm most days and watching Real Housewives when I got home sounded much better than picking up a rag (Guilty pleasure admitted there). But if I hired someone to clean, would I become one of those horrible women? Okay, that’s going a little far. I’m nowhere close to hiring four nannies.
There’s the class issue, and then there’s just the embarrasment issue. Someone would see the dirt in each crevass of each stair. Someone would see the futile battle we fight against dog hair.
The embarassment and shame didn’t win out in the end. The stress and energy drain of a dirty house weighed heavy enough that we hired someone. Jimmy did the research (he is a real investigator, more on that later).
Two nice-enough women showed up to my house one morning, smelling of smoke and cleaning products. We exchanged pleasantries; they asked if I was allergic to any products, and I got out of their way.
They didn’t complain about the mess or yell “Gross!” like I feared. They were efficient and kept to themselves. Clorox to the rescue! I thanked them a little too profusely when they left, and that was that.
Would I do it again? Heck yes! I wouldn’t for weekly cleaning, but I would for a deep, down clean twice a year. Maybe once in the spring and once in the winter.
I realized that these two women were just business women. This is their job, and they treat it as such. I’m just participating in the beauty of capitalism. Right? Our baseboards are clean. Enough said.