Confessions of a Professional Cleaner

To survive in the Land of the Free and to pay off my student loans I’ve had to take on a second job. Cleaning isn’t hard, and it is flexible. I can work it around my schedule. I hate complaining about this job because no one bothers me as I do it and it is easy money. Usually I can have it done in within ninety minutes. But with every job there comes some drawbacks that must be addressed.

-Are you testing my skills of observation? I am on to you. I found the pile of sugar that you spilled and swept to hide behind the Keurig. FYI the trashcan did a terrible job of hiding the soda splatter from your failed 3-point shot.

-Needles come with caps. Throwing them away uncapped is dangerous. I shouldn’t have to worry about being stabbed while taking the trash out.

-Why is your full hand print always on the glass door? Are you high-fiving it for the excellent job it does at holding the fort down? And are you possibly related to a gorilla? That hand print is the rival of a dinner plate.

-We all have our vices. Life is hard, and we all have that one thing that helps get us through the day. But leaving chewing tobacco crumblies strewn all over the desk is where I draw the line. It is a stinky drug glitter that worms its way into the very fabric of the carpet.

-Dishes. I do them. It’s in the contract. I am constantly amazed at your ability to create the Sears Tower out of mugs. It doesn’t even lean after the fourth mug, all of which are of varying sizes and shapes. I’m still waiting for  you to take on the St Louis Arch. Your architecture skills aside, we have to talk about your coffee habit. Coffee is a life source. I get it. I share the same affinity for it. Yet, leaving coffee in the bottom of that white mug for two days to dry and harden into a film that not even a cockroach would touch is horrifying. Or letting the cheese from your salad turn to concrete on the side of that Tupperware container are things that I cannot fix with ease. Help a girl out, and rinse your dishes. I get it, you have to turn the sink on. It’s more effort, but I did the calculations. You’re not even burning a calorie do it. And honestly, it’s just good manners.

-I don’t even understand the bathroom. It boggles my mind. Why are there feces on the outside of the toilet? Is this art class? Are you finger painting?

I get that you’re busy and I’m here to help make your life easier. I don’t mind it. I just feel a bit less than human when I walk out the door when the job is down. I’m voicing this to the world to remind people that house/office cleaners deserve a little respect. A small thank you isn’t something I’d ever turn down. In short, be kind and please for the love of coffee stop finger painting in the bathroom.

**A huge shout out to the plastic glove industry. You guys are a life saver.**

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