I’m just going to come out and confess: I am a terrible housekeeper. I know, I know, it’s downright shocking. After all, when I’m done working a full day in the office I should totally be able to come home, feed my kids and my husband, and get all my housework done. Yeah, right. M and I do the bare bones minimum to keep the place livable and we pay a cleaning service every other week to come scour the bathrooms and vacuum the floors.
We’ve been using the same service for years now. The original owner was a lovely woman who always made sure her staff came on time and did a nice job. A little over a year ago she decided to become a Realtor in Texas leaving her son in charge of the cleaning service. Let’s just say the experience hasn’t exactly been the same since he took over.
We’ve gotten more and more annoyed at them as the quality of their work dropped and they became less and less responsive. But we’re lazy people, and it was just easier to let them keep coming rather than deal with firing them and finding someone new. Plus we were pretty sure that we were getting a killer deal and that any other service would be way more expensive. OK, fine, we’re lazy and cheap.
Last week I came home to my clean home and went to take the trash bags to the curb. That’s when I noticed a toy sticking out of the bag and opened it. Inside the bag mixed with dirty diapers and used tissues were stacks of mail, piles of magazines, bunches of toys, socks, and a ton of other things that should never have gotten thrown out. I went through the three garbage bags of trash and found that half of it wasn’t trash. Right then I resolved that we were done. Done with the dust bunny colonies under the bed. Done with the spider webs in all the corners of the house. Done with misplaced everything and the arbitrary disposal of our things.
I called a friend to find out who cleaned her house and made the call, then I procrastinated on the other call, the unpleasant one, until yesterday when backed up traffic put me in the right mood to fire someone. But when I called I found that the number had been disconnected. Thinking that it was a mistake I called again, but it was no mistake. Just as I was finally ready to kick them to the curb it seems that our cleaning service had done a runner.
I am beyond irritated. I want my key back. I want some closure. But mostly I want to know what they did with our Netflix movies, though I’m willing to bet good money that they got thrown away along with any number of other items that we’ve always just assumed were put away in odd places.