It’s Monday and I need to clean my house. Sigh. Monday is the day that Jessie comes and cleans, well, virtually every other house on my block. I watch her drag her vacuum from house to house and want to yell “Hi!! Remember me!? Can you just come mop my floor real quick?”
You see, I discovered Jessie years ago, and she and her team would come and make my house sparkly.
My neighbors saw Jessie and asked for her contact info. I obliged and Jessie now has a full day of busy cleaning on my street.
Two years ago (three?) my husband lost his job and as we were searching for expenses to cut, the housecleaner obviously seemed, well, obvious. He told me I could keep her but I remember saying “No, I’m not a princess.” (Some days I wish I was, but, alas, I am not).
I had always said that I would work at Starbucks rather than give up Jessie, but I learned you can give up lots of things (including Starbucks!) and not miss them as much as you think you are going to.
After I started working more, my husband suggested that I get Jessie back. And you know what? I decided I didn’t miss her that much.
Because in lots of ways, Jessie stressed me out. She needed a VERY picked-up, de-cluttered house, which if you have ever visited my house, is really not how I roll. Five people just make lots of “stuff.” We actually “live” in the house and even though sometimes I know I should be more firm, I really don’t want to spend all day long nagging my kids to clean up their rooms.
We do big cleans from time to time, but they have this incredibly creative play streak that I embrace, but which entails a wide variety of toy types that are not easy to clean up. I also would rather socially network than clear clutter all afternoon. Just a different choice of how to spend my time.
Anyway, every husband I have ever met jokes about the ridiculousness of “cleaning for the cleaning person” which is annoying because that is not what you are doing. You are picking up and putting away so they can clean empty surfaces. And sometimes after you’ve done all that you think, “How tough would it be to just wipe that counter?”
The Sunday night rush to put away was so daunting that I ended up just closing off various rooms so I wasn’t subject to her disapproving glare that they were not at Jessie Standards. And if you did leave something out, well, she put it away. Where you would never find it again. One time I was going through my book shelf to find items for the neighborhood garage sale and came across the library book that I had paid an exorbitant replacement fee for because I thought it was lost. Errant shoes were hidden in bizarre locations. Papers were filed somewhere, never to be seen again.
And Monday was also a tough day, just to begin with. While it’s great to have the house cleaned after a busy weekend, at the same time, after a busy weekend the Sunday getting ready routine was daunting.
So even though Jessie could now be a reasonable expense, I still am not convinced I want her … except days like today where the bathrooms and floors await. I will freely admit that I don’t do a very thorough or frequent job, but the stakes are lower. The inevitable next- day-toothpaste-mess is not as infuriating when I didn’t just pay someone $100 to clean it up.
As much as I miss Jessie today, I didn’t miss her at all last night, when I would have turned into a shrieking tyrant, fuming at my peeps to pick up their stuff. The Rescue Hero set up will live on in the book area, and I will just vacuum around it.
