I Wish I Had a Maid

You know – one who wore boxers or briefs. But that is not the case in my little abode, so I had to adopt a new system. When I registered for another half Ironman (which the surgery nixed), I realized things had to be different this year. I didn’t want to put off all my long training – and my housework for the weekend. It was just too much.

It meant that I only socialized with my training partners. If you didn’t swim, bike or run, you were SOL as the saying goes. I also didn’t favor the idea of doing loads of laundry and cleaning after loads of training. Then the idea hit me when I read something in Real Simple (I think). Or perhaps it was online. Wherever I got it, IT was a flash of genius.

Rather than spending hours cleaning, just allot 20 minutes a day to some chore. I really got into it. As my building manager calls it “Virgo-ing out.” Yup, I have an Excel doc of chores posted on my fridge that should take me a half hour or less. I keep a little log for the day I tackled it and then I move on to the next thing. The brilliance of this method is that dust bunnies don’t collect under the desk after a few months of ignoring the space. I can actually see out my sand-covered windows by the beach. I don’t grow biology experiments in my fridge or my bathroom. Eww! There are all kinds of advantages to this system.

I can see my other friends on the weekends. I’m more content, knowing I’m not completely shining things. I’m not a slave to my damn self. With the impending surgery, I even got ahead of myself a little bit, knowing other people would be helping me out for a week or two.

That’s when I realized, I didn’t cover everything. Yeah, dusting the bookshelves and entertainment center didn’t happen. Leave it to my favorite smart *ss of all time, 734’s Dad, to notice. Of course, I didn’t notice he noticed until a week later, sitting at my desk, talking on the phone with a colleague with the late afternoon sun shining just right on my TV. I laughed my head off at the little message he left me. Payback came this week when I cooked him a nice dinner and turned on the overhead light in the kitchen – not just the dim light that he usually leaves on. Yeah, the Boy Scout needs to clean his kitchen floor. And if he doesn’t do it soon, I will write 623 & 734 on it when he’s not looking.