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Don't expect words of wisdom or earth shattering revelations, just my thoughts and observations about living in Ottawa, being a public servant and trying to live life every day to its fullest

Sunday, August 21, 2011

My cleaning lady - that's right. I have one! And I love it! Exclamation points alone do not do the fact that I have a cleaning lady thing justice.

When I first started working, a friend recommended a book for me "Smart Women Finish Rich", the only financial advice book I have ever read. It was a good read and for someone who is terrible with her money an enlightening insight into how so many people are even worse with theirs. Many of the tricks on how to save I already did - I brought a lunch to work and limited the number of coffees I buy a day / week, I had a quasi budget for my regular expenses and while I was spending too much, I knew how and why I was spending it. But one tip really stuck out for me; if as a woman you make more that $60,000 (US / 2004) a year, you should have a cleaning lady.

The logic stuck me as sound, but the reality screamed decadence. As an able bodied individual, why can't I spend a few hours a week scrubbing and cleaning? Vacuuming, sweeping, dusting and mopping? Washing windows, toilets and showers? How much is my time really worth? And what am I doing on weekends anyway ... besides, it is a great workout? Hauling the vacuum up and down the stairs, reaching around the toilet, it is a mini cardio and yoga workout rolled into the comfort of your own home.

At first I refused to hire a cleaning lady because I lived with other people who were messy and I wasn't sure why my good money should pay to clean up after them. I also lived in fear of the weekends designated for a "good cleaning". I did learn that a messy house leads to stress and over-all grumpiness. Now I live alone. For people who do not know me, I am a bit of a neat freak. Everything has a place and is put away, I hate clutter and love walking barefoot on clean floors. It seemed a waste to spend money on what I thought should be a quick job.

And then one day, I popped over to pay my neighbors cleaning lady for him and my life changed. It was a whim, I admit. My parents were in town and the first thing my mother did was clean. I thought I had done a OK job - but it wasn't up to her standards. She complained about how the blinds were dusty (who has time to dust blinds?) and that my stove could do with a really good wipe-down (OK, it was a little greasy, but how do you really scrub the grim off?). Tired of her comments about my inability to clean a floor so that a five course meal could be eaten right off it, I asked the cleaning lady if she would do my house as well - and she said yes!

There is something about ever second Friday knowing that when I get home, my place will be clean. What is even better is sleeping in on Saturday morning and not having to make anytime for cleaning my house. Yes, it is totally decadent - but I am worth it. So this evening while I am admiring my wonderfully clean house, I will raise a glass to my cleaning lady.

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