By Lucille Hutchinson, INDIANA – Recently I’ve been biting off more than I can chew. I mean, what with my husband Dan so tied up with work and my sister Beth’s invitations to her chorus concerts, I hardly have any extra time left over for myself. After working five days a week as a marketing executive in what is basically still a man’s profession, my feet are killing me and I need a trip to the spa and a massge by someone who makes less money than me.
But the worst problem of all is my room is a mess! I haven’t cleaned in God knows how long. My mother would throw a fit if she saw what a state things are in! Thankfully, she passed on a few years back due to a high fatty diet and running around with longshoremen.
Still, what if I bring a man home and he sees the dishes in the sink and under the couch and in the latrine? What if he sees the layering of the blackish-grey dust in the bath and the dog hair obscuring the tv’s screen. Is he gonna ask what happened to my doggie?
I hope not.
Hiring a cleaner is just so much work. I don’t speak most of their languages. How am I supposed to even talk to them on the phone and get them to come on over here?
I hate cleaning – it’s the one thing I dislike. I like music- all kinds make me sing out loud, and really perk up my day. And I like to cook and watch movies- even cartoons and black and white movies they made before I came into this world.
Well, I guess I’m gonna have to do something. But it really pisses me off.