Yesterday, I paid someone to clean my apartment for the first time in my life. For as long as I can remember, I did it myself. But with both my partner and I working full-time, a business on the side, wedding plans, and lives to live, we figured we’d give it a try. It feels both nice and strange.
It’s odd to get the reward of a clean home without vacuuming, wiping, and scrubbing for two hours. But it’s nice to have those two hours back. The cleaner is a friend of our landlord’s, and she’s all too kind. I was surprised how little money she asked for. I rounded up but should probably add a bit more still.
I refused getting cleaning help for a long time because it felt too privileged. I like the grounding of the exercise, too. Cleaning keeps you humble. But with our cleaner’s busy schedule, we won’t get rid of our cloths altogether any time soon. That convinced me—and the fact that I remembered: Even my grandma had a cleaner. Everyone in the family was busy working in their little clothing store, so once a week, they got some help with the house.
Whether it’s cleaning, cooking, or doing a task that’s right up your alley: Sometimes, it’s nice if someone else does it, even if you love it. Don’t feel bad for asking for the occasional break.
