So Maid

Growing up in a traditional mid-income household, I’d never had a domestic helper. Mom, being a full-time housewife, took care of all the cooking, cleaning and laundry until I was old enough (i.e. the age of six, according to the rule book in this traditional mid-income household) to share some of the chores while my dad and brother focused on maintaining those ass prints on the couch.

I don’t mind cooking the occasional meal provided that there’s enough room in a well-equipped kitchen for me to move around in. But other than that, I never really enjoyed housework. Once in a blue moon I’d go in a trance and clean Monica style, but then my stamina never lasts long enough for me to clean anything more than one room. So I knew that the only way for the dust to not accumulate at my new home is to hire a cleaning lady.

Thanks to K, I was introduced to Ms So. She’s one mysterious lady who kind of looks like Melinda Doolittle (who sadly just got booted). All I know about her is her last name and phone number. Yet for some reason, I don’t feel as insecure about leaving her my key as I do about her making an attempt to clean up my really messy desk. I hated it enough when my mom “cleaned up” my mess, which always resulted in lost items and disputes. I really don’t need a cleaning lady who reminds me of my mom.

K had warned me that Ms So was somewhat weird; she doesn’t just accept any job that comes her way but had to interview every potential employer and inspect their place before she’d make a decision. I was so afraid she wouldn’t want to work for me that I actually cleaned my place before she came over for the inspection. Unfortunately, after two weekly cleaning sessions, I just don’t think Ms So is as clean as K said she was. I don’t like to clean but that doesn’t mean I’m not picky about cleanliness. I honestly expected whoever I paid to do my cleaning to do it Monica style. But is it rude to show a veteran how to do better in her own terrain?

What might eventually make me go psycho bitch on her though is her inability to just follow instructions. I just need someone who’d put things back to their original places, someone who doesn’t stack heavy ceramic bowls on top of thin glasses, and someone who wouldn’t repeatedly question why I want my bed sheets and towels washed every week, why I don’t wash them at home, and why I can’t take them down to the laundry room myself. Is that too much to ask?