I'm Cleaning My Oven

As I sat, rather knelt, in my shower yesterday cleaning the floor, I thought about how nice it was to have a cleaning lady, if only briefly. Lourdes aka Lola would come every couple of weeks and clean everything, even the windows. I think I loved Lourdes more than I love my husband. And that's why I miss her so much.

I interviewed a potentially new cleaning lady after Lola's cellphone stopped working and I couldn't find her. Nice lady but a little high maintenance. Or a lot. She said she would have to charge me $50 more than Lourdes. Because of the commute.

 

See, I thought that was kind of funny. Or ironic. Or ironical. If you're Madonna. Or Gwyneth Paltrow.

 

I thought it was kind of funny that she had to charge me more to commute because essentially, I mean the very nature of being a cleaning lady, is that you don't work from home. It is impossible to telecommute if you're a cleaning lady.

 

It is possible to telecommute if you're an obscure blogger, out there in the blogosphere making absolutely no money doing what you love. But the money issue forces you to get another job, say whoring yourself as a PR flack as I've done on more than one occasion. Sure you dread every single phone call you make on behalf of some a-hole client who thinks they invented sliced bread...but you CAN telecommute.

 

Choose your careers wisely people. But that's another blog, for another day.

 

So I didn't hire her. Because the last thing I need is more high maintenance in my life. And frankly I don't think she should be paid extra for commuting to her job cleaning my house.

 

Unfortunately for everyone here, I don't do windows. Unfortunately for me, I have way less time to blog because I'm cleaning my house.

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