The woman who keeps our house clean and smelling nice has gone on holiday for two weeks. This leaves me with the daunting task of filling her (small) Polish shoes. I'm not sure I can live up to my own impossibly high hygiene standards the way she does. I'm one of those born untidy people who also happens to like living in a house that is spotless - which is really why we hire someone to do it. Robert reckons having a cleaner is a relationship must – no arguments about who does what. Or rather, what’s he’s saying in a very polite way, is that if we cleaned our own house I’d land up doing most of it, resenting it, and becoming a nagging bitch. He has a point.
There is a scene in the film ‘Y tu mamá también’ where one of the guys lifts up the toilet seat at his friend’s house with the toe of his shoe, because he thinks it’s unclean. That scene stuck with me for ages, and I thought – God forbid anyone ever feel that way in my house! And if we’re having people over, I’ll spend extra time bleaching the bathroom just in case. I know it’s excessive, but I have a real germ phobia, and tend to think everyone is the same.
Public toilets are a chronic source of anxiety for me, and unless I am about to burst my bladder, I will not use them. Fortunately, some countries (like the USA) offer those paper toilet seat covers which is nice. Other places have weird revolving self-cleaning things, which is doubly nice. And then there’s Japan with their special lavatory-only shoes. Now that is an advanced society.
Right, enough talk. The bleach beckons… .