Oct 31, 2006

Two Sundays ago, our housecleaner called us just before she was due to arrive, saying she had some church thing she’d forgotten about. Last Sunday morning, there was a message on our machine from her saying she would not be coming, and that if we wanted more information, to give her a call. We didn’t think that was a good sign. Gary called her today. She told him she couldn’t work for us anymore, because the situation was not what she was used to. She meant – get this – that she couldn’t work around the fact that we still have boxes on the floor – she couldn’t take the “clutter.” (There are two rooms that she is supposed to clean that still have boxes – the master bedroom, which Gary is still trying to organize, and my study – I’m still organizing my books on the shelves; yes, I’m slow. We had told her not to bother picking up the boxes or anything, just clean around them; evidently this went against her sensibilities.) I would find this hysterically funny if not for the fact that we have to find yet another person to houseclean. We called the next person on our list . . .