I clean, I scrub, I sweep, I mop, I vacuum. But, I am not actually a maid because of the obvious reason, I don't get paid. But I'm also not a real maid because of one other fundamental reason which might not be so obvious.
I've never cleaned other peoples' houses for money, but I imagine it might be a job of great satisfaction. There is actual visual progress. You enter a home, it's very messy, disheveled, dirty even. You work your fingers to the bone. You clean, you polish, you shine. Upon completion of a job, you stand at the front door surveying your progress. Satisfaction. A job well done. You open the door, you exit. Leaving a clean, beautiful home for the owners to enjoy. On to the next house full of slobs.
The biggest difference between me and the maid is in the exit. I, as opposed to the maid, do not exit the clean, beautiful home after working my fingers to the bone. I live in this home. I complete the job, survey my progress. Satisfaction. But wait, here they come. A three-person wrecking crew. What took me all day to clean, now takes them fifteen minutes to destroy.
Most days I feel like a hamster on a wheel. I'm moving, but am I really making any progress?
2 comments:
This is exactly how I feel about my dang laundry! I will pay someone just to do my laundry, it never stops!
Sometimes I too feel as if there may be no point to my cleaning, but there is just so much satisfaction in those mere moments of cleanliness!
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