Wednesday 4 April 2012

Things I’ve come to realise since my cleaning lady went on a seven-week vacation

1.     That my life has changed irrevocably, the meaning of ‘line up’ now quantifying the fact that the dishwasher will indeed not empty itself.
2.     That there might just be something to being a bottle collector; I could most certainly supplement my income with the amount of empties that I’ve just had to deposit for those less fortunate - either that or I could learn a new musical skill.
3.     That my fridge might just be a portal to new worlds with intelligent life forms.
4.     That it’s not just politicians with dirty little secrets hidden within their cabinets.
5.     That unlike the dishwasher, my oven will clean itself even if its skill does seem to be restricted; missing the nooks and crannies of the hotplates as it does, but no matter how much I try to encourage it, the microwave just can’t match those obliterating kind of temperatures; what just might be inspiration for a wanna be Picasso evident on all three sides, top and bottom.
6.     Where the expression ‘breeding like rabbits’ was begat from when I looked under the furniture.
7.     That ‘Lysol Ultimate Bathroom Cleaner’ might ultimately rein from the bathroom throne; providing shining hope for the murky minions there, ‘tapping’ into its skills even in the kitchen, but for whatever reason it has a grudge against my beautiful wooden dining table; wiping it clean, sure, but beating it into a dull submission ‘to just think about that!’
8.     That it is not minor earthquakes in the region, after all, that make the pictures on my wall askew from time to time, for there have been a couple of shakes recently and still they’re as straight as the last time I adjusted them just after my cleaner left two weeks ago.
9.     That windows of opportunity ‘clothes’ themselves when doors doubling as laundry baskets no longer will.
10. That despite Nancy Sinatra’s claim; shoes do not take on a life of their own.
11. That, in contrast to number ten, toys really do come alive when no one’s around – either that or someone’s running a doggy day care here when I’m out.
12. That judging by the water’s absolute refusal to drain in the shower, it might just be time for a haircut.
13. That the outdoors has, under false pretences, taken credit far too long for the fresh aroma of nature that I always thought was particularly skilled in permeating, even in winter, the smallest cracks of my doors and windows.
14. That contrary to what their name suggests about their disposition, baseboards really don’t skirt any issues at all.
15. That the dog doesn’t mind taking a bath now, not after the last time I rinsed him down in there; the tub doing a highly impressive impression of the dank mucky puddle up the park.
16. That there’s no treasure in that old trunk in my study as I always fancied there might be.  No, now I have to put that retirement plan to bed! (See what I did there?)
17. That silver might just be an impostor; in fact it’s a cotton lining to be discovered behind every soft downy cloud.
18. That my bathroom windowsill might have a point; spreading gossip that I’m metrosexual as has been its tendency of late; perhaps its time to go back in the closet?
19. That if you don’t pick up the party favour from your Godson’s christening - a love heart shaped picture frame attached to a nicely tied blue ribbon containing iced chocolate almonds - that fell on the floor when you were cleaning the dresser, that the dog will accuse you of having held out on him all this time.  Yes...  a false labour saving method is the art of procrastination when one considers the mark on the carpet that the ingestion of his very first taste of sugar will undoubtedly deposit later.
20. That the canine species might just be more intuitive than we think, vacuums really are obnoxious sucky bastards.
21. But the biggest thing I’ve learned since my cleaning lady abandoned me?  That what highly manipulative parents say is true; anything can be turned into a game; stopping in-between chores to write these little notes and rather enjoying it, the place sparkling now to the point where I might have missed my vocation – but I rather suspect that’ll be a one time deal only - but at least I got to write as well.
  
22. That I might not be paying her enough - but... then again... anyone who can take a frikkin' seven week unpaid vacation, might just be doing better than me!
I think I’m good for two weeks now, only five to wade my way through.

2 comments:

  1. Heck at least you can afford a char woman as they call them in England. I remember my English mentor using that slang description of a cleaning woman:-) Also just think, having to do is all yourself builds up your self-esteem and adds more talents to the list you already have. I am just a poor poet living humbly in a bachelor abode, however it has all the comforts I need unlike Bukowski I don't have to count or talk to the roaches riding the ceiling fan that goes around and around in the room. I enjoyed this post, it made me feel lucky to be a clean man who knows how to keep a clean pad.

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  2. Thanks Vincent, yeah we called them char ladies, and trust me, I KNOW how to clean, I never had a childhood, per se, cleaning and other stuff taking precedence, but nuff said about that, and I've kept an immaculate place all my life by my own volition. It's nothing but a luxury to have a char at this point in life, but with running a business and being a writer full time, it's money well spent for I have no time to do it anymore, not properly, and neither do I want to, but now I don't go out every weekend like I did in my younger youth, I can afford to spoil myself a little. P.S I love Bukowski's work.

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