Tag Archives: sanity

An Open Letter to My Cleaning Lady

I don’t want to bother you while you’re quarantining with your family. But just real quick: why is everything so sticky?

I remember the last time we said goodbye. It was like any other Tuesday. Your skin had that nice sheen of perspiration about it, and in my memory, you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. You said you’d see me next week. That was 51 days ago.

I guess I just wanted to write and tell you that I get it now. Where there used to be clean surfaces in which I would see my own image reflected, there’s now a coat of dust, dog hair and sesame seeds in which I see the truth about who I am. I really had no idea. About any of it. Take the spray bottles, a whole bucket of them, all slightly different and ending in “–ex.” Around week two, I noticed that the prefix to each bottle’s name is a clue to what it’s supposed to be cleaning. You probably knew this already.  

As I wipe the film of grime from one surface to another (Fantastic, I find, is well named) and haul the vacuum cleaner up and down stairs, I start to understand a few things about you. Like I understand why you occasionally miss a spot. Sometimes on those glorious Tuesdays, just after you’d left, I’d wander around the house enjoying the 45 minutes that it would stay clean, and I’d notice a smudge on a cupboard or some jelly near the sink. I’d wipe them in my long-suffering way. Do I have to do everything around here? Now I understand. There are just too many spots not to miss a spot. This place is covered in jelly. Oh! I answered my own question.

I now understand why you weren’t as excited as I was when I got my little long-haired constantly-shedding dog. I thought I’d surprise you. You matched my smile and made all the right sounds, but something passed behind your eyes, a fleeting look that I now recognize as terror. His hair is everywhere. My carpets are laden with it. It’s somehow in the stove. It sticks to the spots of jelly.

I understand now that all of your comments and inquiries about my beautiful children were sarcastic. Sarcasm can be so subtle, and I’m usually pretty good at picking up on it, but I see that the joke was on me. I did notice an involuntary swallowing every time you mentioned one of their names. I wondered if it was hick-ups and if you’d been drinking on the job (God knows I do). But I now know that it was your gag reflex kicking in. My children are disgusting people. Just the mention of them now makes me a little queasy. Not one of them knows how to properly use a toilet, and they collectively shed skin cells with the vigor and enthusiasm of my long-haired dog. Sorry, again, about the dog.

You might be happy to know that I’ve made some changes around here now that I’m in charge. Namely, there will be no more cleaning the oven. I YouTube’d it and thought is this even legal? If I’d known that I was asking you to heat it up, spray it with chemicals and then stick your head inside, I promise I never would have asked you to do it. I’m not a maniac.

And I’ve decided I don’t need my sheets washed every week. Whose idea was that anyway? I went three weeks without washing them and didn’t notice any problem at all. I only washed them this week because I spilled some ketchup, and after a few nights of waking up and thinking I was bleeding to death, I decided to suck it up.

Also, after the second week, I went to vacuum the living room, but I stopped right away when I realized the carpet in there is the exact same color as the dog! You can barely see the hair, so I’m just letting it pile up. It’s saved a lot of time. I’m thinking of replacing the rest of the carpet in my house with a similar color so I can just throw the vacuum out. Thoughts?

Anyway, I hope you are well. Enclosed please find your check for this week, which I used to think was a lot. We should probably talk about that too.

The Cleanse

There’s nothing more annoying than a person on a cleanse. Or even just a person who wants to talk about their diet: what they’re eating, what they’re not eating, what they have eaten but are not likely to eat again. A recent conversation with a man who was in the middle of a month of… Continue Reading

If You’ve Got Five Kids, You’ve Got A Lot of Teeth

“That’s just so many teeth,” I said to the confused mother of five seated across from me at lunch. It was a weird follow up to the pretty standard suburban question: “how many kids do you have?” Depending on your point of view, there are plenty of more appropriate reactions, including “how wonderful” and “so… Continue Reading

The Untold History of Thanksgiving

It’s important to remember the genesis of Thanksgiving, lest we all just start to see it as a stomach-stretching warm up for the actual holidays. The first Thanksgiving was a shared meal between the pilgrims and the Native Americans, one where they gave thanks for all they had and set the tone for who we… Continue Reading

Other People’s Problems

Sometimes, when I’m busy not writing my novel, I daydream about finishing my students’ novels. My mind floods with ideas to fill in their story gaps. I dream up surprise endings and pages of snappy dialog. While driving the other day, I decided that one of my student’s characters should have a heavy suitcase at the… Continue Reading

Sports Niceties in Real Life

Spring sports are winding down and the whole thing seems like a blur of driving, costume changes and sandwiches eaten in the car. There was the requisite amount of elbow jabbing, name calling and blood letting. But there were also the niceties of sports, the repeated rituals, words and actions that sort of smooth out… Continue Reading

Is Anyone Else Tired?

Remember when that new, zealous guy started work at your office? The one who thought it would be more productive to come in a few minutes earlier and stay a few minutes later? Next thing you knew, your nine-to-five job was eight-to-six, for the same pay. I wonder if this is what’s happened to motherhood.… Continue Reading

Notes for Next Christmas

I have a friend who has a very thoughtful way of living her life, and I try to pick up her habits when I can. She recently told me that every year after Christmas she takes a few minutes to jot down what worked and what didn’t, so that she doesn’t make the same mistakes… Continue Reading

Wake Me Up When The Election’s Over

We’re almost there, people. The election is just over the hump of the weekend, and the end is actually in sight. I tend to like a salacious and horrifying story, the inner-workings of human drama. But there’s no thrill in this election. It just feels prickly and uncomfortable, like the angora sweater my grandmother bought… Continue Reading

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