I am sitting here working while a team of four women clean my home for me. And they’re doing a better job than I would do, too.
Oh, I straightened up and got things out of their way and made the place presentable—but they’re the ones doing the vacuuming and floor-washing and cleaning of windows.
They even cleaned my antique Chinese six-panel wooden screen, which stopped my heart when I saw that the window-washer had sprayed cleaning fluids on it. It seems to have taken no damage, and I will inform them that they must dust it only in the future.
Other than that, except for two missing cats (presumed cowering under something), this is great.
This is the same company I used to clean my old apartment. They were done in an hour. It would have taken me most of the day. And I got my security deposit back. Totally paid for the cleaning crew to come in and save me the effort.
They did the toilets. They did the windows. They even got the cobweb in the corner of the great room that’s, like, twenty-five feet high and impossible to reach without a really, really long extension. They had one. The cobweb is gone.
Nope. I’m never cleaning my house again.
Well, that’s the advantage of being a guy. It’s cute when I live in a messy apartment and anyway Ingrid the cat is alone all day and needs a variety of things tossed around to make her life interesting.
Also she’s afraid of the vacuum cleaner and it would be downright cruel to take it out and scare her.
I agree. I have a very reliable cleaning woman give my place a going over about once a month. More frequent cleanings are unnecessary, as I have a high tolerance for untidiness.
My philosophy is that untidiness is not the equivalent of dirt. I can keep both bathrooms and the kitchen relatively clean between visits. However, women who visit, tend to roll their eyes as they wind their way through the obstacle course in my living room.
Well, I have a bit of a problem with clutter from time to time. But when I’m happy, my house is usually pretty clean.
I’m extremely happy I can afford to hire someone else to clean it.
But the cats are rather miffed that all their playthings have been put away or thrown out.
[snicker] sounds like the last female visitor I had in my apartment back when I was in the Navy. Moving day for me was about 3 weeks away and I had not, um, “gotten” to the bathrooms yet. She waltzed in the door while I was taking some crap out to the dumpster & asked to use the bathroom. “Sure..1st door on the right down the hall”. Came back inside and she is standing in front of the open doorway, face all scrunched up in the classic “WTF?” look. Turns to me and says “Look, if you are not gonna clean it, at least PLANT something!”
Yep, those Merry Maids are a FINE investment…