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Aug. 3rd, 2007 09:58 pmI have taken steps recently to fu.fill a life long dream and I find myself distinctly ambivalent about it. When I was little, every Saturday my mother, my sister, and I would clean house. I made up my mind that I was going to get a job that paid well enough to pay someone else to do the housework. I hate it and I am crap at it, because I just don't see the little details and dirt until it's just overwhelming.
Fast forward to years later, when I am married and starting to make a fair amount of money, but due to my husband's OCD, the house is so cluttered and piled with junk, it's impossible to clean. (I once lost a chest of drawers and had to search the house for a week before I found where it was buried beneath and behind boxes.)
Then I moved out on my own, but it took a while to get it organized enough to clean. Then I felt guilty, and tried to do the housework myself. But I'm working 50-60 hours a week and I'm still crap at it, and I still hate it. So I recently set up for regular cleaning by a cleaning service every other week, for about one hour of my gross pay. On the one hand I love it. It makes me keep up with the picking up, and I love coming home to a clean house -- and they are much better at it than I have ever been.
The down side -- I recently read Nickled and Dimed where the author (Nancy Friedlich?) tried to live on various minimum wage jobs, including working for a cleaning service. She details horrific working conditions and shoddy cleaning practices. She speaks scathingly of the clients as racist, classist snobs too lazy to do their own shitwork. And I find myself feeling guilty about maybe being a part of someone's exploitation, on top of residual guilt about not cleaning my house myself (I'm a woman, I'm supposed to be born able to clean perfectly, right?)
I was there when they cleaned the first time, and I know they do a good job. I don't leave a horrid house for them, I make sure it's neat and picked up. (I leave the shit work to my neighbor -- he scoops my cat boxes and cleans the science experiments out of my fridge and I do his laundry, including the gross stuff.) I don't look down on them for cleaning house, I am grateful to pay an expert do a job I can't do competently myself. But I still feel vaguely that I am doing something wrong, and I don't quite know what to do about it. But at least I am feeling guilty in a lovely clean apartment.
Fast forward to years later, when I am married and starting to make a fair amount of money, but due to my husband's OCD, the house is so cluttered and piled with junk, it's impossible to clean. (I once lost a chest of drawers and had to search the house for a week before I found where it was buried beneath and behind boxes.)
Then I moved out on my own, but it took a while to get it organized enough to clean. Then I felt guilty, and tried to do the housework myself. But I'm working 50-60 hours a week and I'm still crap at it, and I still hate it. So I recently set up for regular cleaning by a cleaning service every other week, for about one hour of my gross pay. On the one hand I love it. It makes me keep up with the picking up, and I love coming home to a clean house -- and they are much better at it than I have ever been.
The down side -- I recently read Nickled and Dimed where the author (Nancy Friedlich?) tried to live on various minimum wage jobs, including working for a cleaning service. She details horrific working conditions and shoddy cleaning practices. She speaks scathingly of the clients as racist, classist snobs too lazy to do their own shitwork. And I find myself feeling guilty about maybe being a part of someone's exploitation, on top of residual guilt about not cleaning my house myself (I'm a woman, I'm supposed to be born able to clean perfectly, right?)
I was there when they cleaned the first time, and I know they do a good job. I don't leave a horrid house for them, I make sure it's neat and picked up. (I leave the shit work to my neighbor -- he scoops my cat boxes and cleans the science experiments out of my fridge and I do his laundry, including the gross stuff.) I don't look down on them for cleaning house, I am grateful to pay an expert do a job I can't do competently myself. But I still feel vaguely that I am doing something wrong, and I don't quite know what to do about it. But at least I am feeling guilty in a lovely clean apartment.
