I bought three hours’ worth of a house cleaning service on Living Social some months back because the price seemed right and I figured it would come in handy. I keep the house pretty straight, but I figured there are some things a bachelor is bound to miss.
I finally got around to calling to set up an appointment a few weeks ago, and it was a good thing I hadn’t expected quick service, because their first available slot was three weeks out — namely, today. So, you can guess what I’ve been doing.
Right.
Cleaning house.
I don’t want the cleaning people (or person) to think I don’t keep a decent house, you know. So I’ve scrubbed the tubs and toilets, swept and vacuumed, dusted, worked on the kitchen counters, generally straightened things up.
On the one hand, it makes no sense: it’s like a sinner trying to do enough good works to be worthy of forgiveness.
On the other hand, I didn’t want the cleaners to spend time on the surface stuff that I can do. I want them to apply their expertise to things that befuddle me — like how to get the vinyl floor in the kitchen and breakfast area really clean (if it’s possible), and how to get the sectional couch in the den (aka “teen boys’ hangout hole”) to smell like something other than dog-and-dirty-socks.
At the moment, my appointed cleaners are late, and I’m beginning to wonder if they’re going to show.
No matter, I suppose … the house is already close to clean.