Cleaning for the Cleaning Lady

For some people, hiring someone to clean your house is a luxury.  If you have some extra cash, work long hours, or are just lazy, paying someone to do your chores is awesome.  Then there are those of us who can not live without  someone to help out.

No, I didn't just make that up.

I am one of those people, who will eat Campbell's tomato soup for a week out of each month, and skip breakfast and lunch altogether, just to afford to pay someone to help me clean my house.  What can I say?  I have ADHD and a three-year-old.  The havok this creates is far more damaging than mixing bleach and ammonia together and then taking a deep breath.

But wait, it gets better...  I not only have the most wonderful and understanding cleaning lady, Isabella, I also have a professional organizer come in once a month.  Stop laughing.  I can hear you laughing. 

Now, I will never fully understand this phenomena, but I do know I am not the only person who cleans before the cleaning lady arrives.  Why do we do this?  Does this make any sense?

The house must not be messy when the person being paid to clean it arrives.  Hmmm...

I mean, I do all the dishes, wash the windows, and make my bed (a completely pointless task I never do unless we're having guests, I just washed the sheets, or Isabella is coming to clean.)  And I continue to make the bed even though Isabella always re-makes the bed.  WTF?  Why do I do this?  It's not like I don't know she will make the bed.  I wonder what she must think of my lame attempt at bed-making.  I mean, really, all I do is pull the blanket up and fluff the pillows.  It's not like I fix the sheet; it's visibly rumpled under the blanket, but that's just the right amount of effort for bed making.  In a few hours, I'm just going to mess it up again.

Now, I will admit to the point that a made bed does make a room look a little neater, but do I honestly believe she won't notice the Pits of Despair in the corner if the bed is made?  She must think, "Why doesn't this broad take care of that pile of crap in the corner since she knows I'm going to make the bed anyway?"  At least that's what I keep thinking when Isabella's cleaning day rolls around.

Just kidding.  I don't actually expect her to go near the Pits of Despair.  Hell, I won't even go near the Pits of Despair and it's all my own shit.  What are these Pits, you wonder?  It's the perpetual pile of crap that continues to accumulate in between the bed and the wall.  I clear it at least two to three times a week, but mysteriously, the day after I've removed every item and vacuumed, it's back. 

I'm beginning to suspect I sleepwalk, and when I do, I make mess.  Well, the bright side?  At least I'm not stuffing my face when I sleepwalk.

Now I have to go clean up before Isabella gets here.