I don’t think I need a maid – something I’ve often thought about. Alright not ‘often’. More like ‘just then, then I thought I’ll do a blog about that it’ll be WELL GOOD’. Anyway, I don’t think I need to hire someone to clean for me.
It’s not that my flat is tidy or nice in any way – it’s a shithole the likes of which only I can create, and it’s getting progressively worse. Especially as I’m too lazy/forgetful/scared to tell the landlord about all the things that have broken so he can fix them.
But I don’t think I need someone to come in and sort it out. What I need is someone to come in and just move stuff around a bit. I just looked at my table and there’s stuff there that pre-dates the present era of Dransfield singledom. I’m talking vitamins, anti-inflammatory cream and some other stuff, not like food or beetle carcasses.
I also rarely realise how dusty stuff gets, for two reasons. One, I never touch it so why would I even look at it? And two, it gets to the point that there’s so much dust on it if I do look at it I just assume it’s meant to look like that.
So yeah, I need someone to come and move my stuff around from time to time, before dusting pretty much everything. Oh, and they can fix the broken shit too. I might just buy myself a new hotplate for my birthday. CELEBRATION.