Confession

I'll make a confession. Because I work so much, I am rarely home. And because I am rarely home the time I am home I generally spend working. As a result my 'home' pretty much falls to peices. Catastrophic mess.

Recentlly though I got a cleaning woman who comes once a week and sees me through these times of bustle. As noxtious as the idea of a cleaning person handling ones own mess might be to some people, I assure my detractors it's about the most blissfully wonderful service you just might ever pay for. To leave behind at your flat an absolute wasteland of mess and return in the evening to a haven of cleanliness and order; is fantastic. There is nothing more wonderful than a clean flat that you didn't lose a saturday cleaning yourself. Folded clothes, washed bathrooms, cleaned dishes, mopped floors, even (drum roll) long-lost sock pairs being re-match and bundled together!!!!!!!! It's pure heaven for a messy boy like myself. So I just had to confess. That's my dirty, dirty, dirty, pleasure. Having someone make me clean.

There is a downside though. My cleaning woman organizes EVERYTHING. This is nice, but it means I must adjust and adapt to her organization system. She decides where everything goes and just have to get use to it. A very small price to pay. It's like having your very own hotel room, at home!