J-Man gets a maid

It was bound to happen. I had put off the enevitable long enough. Yesterday, for the first time ever, a maid visited my house. You see, after living alone (well, Chloe's here, but she pretty much adds to the mess with all her shedding) for over two years, things had gotten a bit out of hand in the cleanliness department. My stairs were lined with dust balls that resembled small rodents. There's so much mildew in my shower that even the caulking has turned black. And there was probably some burned dried food on the burners in the kitchen that was made back in 2007.

And so, something needed to be done. My friends and family had commented on the untidyness, and my brother took action. He has a maid clean his condo, and since he lives just across the street, he brought her by a couple weeks ago to look at my place to evaluate it for cleaning.
She quoted me $85 to clean the whole house every other week, and without ever speaking or meeting her, a deal was struck and she was scheduled to come by yesterday.

So, of course, at 7 in the morning I'm frantically running around grabbing all my dirty clothes from my bedroom floor and throwing them in the closet, I'm grabbing all the empty beer cans (I know, it's been established...I have a problem) from my basement, and I took the lotion off my nightstand and put it back in the bathroom (errr, my hands get dry with all the chemicals at work). And then I headed off to work.

My brother called me around noon to say that the maid had finished his place and was heading over to start on my house. At 1 PM, my mom stopped by my house to let my dog out, and she was still there. At 5:30 PM, my brother stopped by my house for some reason, but I was still at work...and so was the maid. And then I arrived home at 6:30 PM, and she was still working.

Apparently she underestimated the amount of mess a 30-year old man and a dog can make over the course of two years. When I arrived home, however, the place smelled different. Instead of smelling like food and mildew (not sure how that happened), it smelled like lemons and pine.

The dust film under my living room furniture was gone. So was the food caked into the burners. As were the dust rodents on the stairs heading up to my second floor. And that's where I found Dinora...passed out on the floor. She was dead.

Nah, just kidding. She looked like hell though. Her hair was going in all directions, she was somewhat sweaty, and toting the vacuum out of the spare bedroom. I asked her how it was going, and she explained that she hadn't even gotten to the basement yet. Yep, 6 hours of cleaning and she had still only covered 2/3rds of my house. This confirms it, I definitely needed a maid.

I couldn't bear to have her work any longer, as I felt guilty for keeping her here this long. I gave her a little extra money, as she apparently is not so good on the estimating of time required. And I even thought I had picked up the place a bit. I didn't even pull the old "eat some Oreos before going to the dentist" routine, just to make her earn her keep.

Needless to say, I sit here now with dustfree (and lotion free) night stands. Mirrors in my bathroom I can actually see clearly into. And a refridgerator where I realized that the shelves are actually clear as opposed to translucent. Who knew?

I've sold out, I know. But apparently it was needed. I've got a maid now...just call me Mr. Drummond. (applause)

Now the world don't move, to the beat of just one drum. What might be right for you, may not be right for some. A man is born, he's a man of means. Then along come two, they've got nothing but their jeans. But they've got Diff'rent Strokes. It takes Diff'rent Strokes. It takes Diff'rent Strokes to move the world.



Where's that lotion?