I often get a bit anxious about the level of cleanliness in my home, and while I rationally know that cleaning it would lessen a lot of that stress…I hate cleaning.
Not the general day-to-day stuff that helps keep the place generally tidy. My home isn’t strewn with trash, my kitchen counters are (mostly) crumb-free, and the dishes are kept under control.
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No, I’m talking about *cleaning*.
I’m talking about pulling on the gloves, getting out the vacuum and mop, and braving the closest where the heavy duty cleaning supplies are stored.
That. I hate that.
So when someone actually informs me that they don’t mind — or even enjoy — cleaning, I just don’t know how to handle it.
It’s like the person is speaking a foreign language and my universal translator has glitched out.
Inevitably, this surprise is followed by two very important questions.
First: “You’re joking, right?”
And second: “How many baked goods will it take to bribe you to wash my baseboards for me?”
For me, the true mark of success will be the ability to afford a cleaning service to come in and do the hard stuff for me, but for now, I can only pay in cookies.