I noticed a van parked in front of my neighbor's home on and off for a week or two, when I finally met the driver of said van. She was my neighbor's new "Household Helper" to which I said, "I NEED ONE OF THOSE!!!" with as much exuberance as the capital letters are meant to evoke. She said, "But you stay at home, right?"
Wow.
That doesn't mean I don't need help.
But instead I spend my days picking up after the other three family members and the three dogs that live lavishly in the luxury of having their own maid. I, however, do not.
And when those family members come home, the little tornados flourish throughout the house once gain. And once again in the morning, I'll be left with crap to clean up.
One particular evening, my husband had asked me for the statement that the Service Dude gave me after getting supposed work done on my car that was under warranty that we are now suspecting was never done at all. This after I had to go through the whole rigamarole of a rental car that I totally did not want to get, but am now thinking just made the completion of the repairs look all the more plausible. Instead of repairing the rear hatches' tailgate lifts and the leaking sunroof that has led to a musty smell this entire, rainy year, I think they ONLY got to repairing one passenger seatbelt. AND THEN charged me a $100 deductible. That I had no idea about. All I heard was that it was under warranty. Wait til I check my credit card bill to see what Enterprise Rent A Car actually ended up charging me on a rental car that I didn't even want, probably didn't even need and should have been covered by my warranty as well.
So, I was looking for the statement (sorry for the tangent). I have plastic organizational drawers in the closet next to my computer where I essentially hide all of my necessary office accoutrements. Like envelopes, greeting cards, post-its, pens, wrapping paper, extra sunglasses, bows and ribbons for gift-wrapping, printer labels and of course, one drawer for receipts (in case I need to return something) and one drawer for all of my "filing." Which includes credit card statements and all other statements and pieces of paper that need to be eventually filed and retained for the next seven years, or so say the accounting gods.
I like to file about as much as I like to iron. Which means it only gets done bi-annually. Okay, maybe ironing has to get done more often than that. But filing does not.
So I'm sifting through this mess of a drawer. And every time I do this I swear at myself and to myself that the clean-out of this should happen a whole heck of a lot more often. So that situations like this don't happen. So I can quickly and easily obtain service records for my car. Or I could do what my husband suggests: keep all car service records in the car. Which I would find quite messy. Unless I had a neat little plastic envelope with an elastic tie that I could put them in that was in a coordinating color or something. Because I obviously care so much about the condition of all of my filing statements.
And I say to myself, "What I wouldn't give for a Filing Fairy."
Not to mention a Lively Launderer: one who sees that the baskets and hampers are overflowing before the "stamp down" has to happen (when you stamp down the laundry to fit more in.)
A Chivalrous Chauffeur: Oh how I hate driving. I used to LOVE IT. I'm a speed demon at heart. But now I have kids. And I live where there is only one major freeway that every crazy driver in the universe uses. I could actually get in an accident at least ten times every time I drive. So I'm a very careful driver. But that doesn't make it a pleasant experience.
An Irrepressable Ironer (Now, come on, that oxymoron is pretty ironic - OH NO, NOT AGAIN . . . knee-slapper . . . let me contain myself . . .). Ironing is SO awful to me. And the funny thing is that I have to do it more in the summer than the winter. In the winter I wear a lot of jeans, sweaters and cotton tops that don't have to be ironed. In the summer it's all about shorts that have cuffs and hems that get wrinkled every time they're washed. Not to mention my husband's cotton, button-down, short-sleeve shirts. And now my daughter and son have iron-able shorts and shirts as well. When will it END??? . . . (When I move to a tropical location and only wear cotton sundresses on the beach...)
Superbly Supreme Chef: I actually like cooking, too, but it takes endless effort to come up with menus, nevermind the grocery shopping that must happen prior in order to create daily meals for one's family.
Diligent Duster: I try, I really try, with the Clorox Wipes, even the ones in the value pack from Costco. I spin around those high-traffic surfaces as often as I can. But there are surfaces that are further away, that are somehow . . . further away.
Vigorous Vacuumer: With three dogs, you can only imagine. I am totally convinced that my Dyson Vacuum actually makes dirt on its own, because I cannot possilby have that much dirt in my carpets and on my floors. Or maybe I can.
Speed Sweeper: Who would kind of be the in-between for the Vigorous Vacuumer. Speed Sweeper would have to be in action every day in the hopes of a promotion to the position of Vigorous Vacuumer. Or perhaps he or she would be more important.
Attentive Accountant: I pay bills not once a month but all the time. And even THEN I can miss things. I need a little Attentive Accountant Angel on my shoulder watching over me and giving me a little tap when I've forgotten things or I could have more accurately made my allocations, so to speak.
Dutiful Dish Washer: I, myself, am a speed dish washer. I want to get that job done faster than I can eat a (small) bag of potato chips. Which can sometimes lead to re-washing. But just the dishes that are left on the counter by other people in the home after the main dishwashing has been done, can be severely irritating to one's morning, if you know what I mean. Waking up to dirty dishes on the counter or in the sink doesn't go well with my morning coffee.
A Punctual Picker-Upper: All I do is pick up. But I walk by things time and time again, knowing they're bothering me but not having enough oomph to actually pick it up and take it to its rightful place. Sometimes that's because I'm not quite sure where its rightful place is. But generally it's because of the sheer enormity of the number of things that need to be picked up and put away. Enough that it can take an entire day. And that happens every day.
Pet Picker Up After-er: I love my dogs. I don't really mind picking up after them. And now that we've weed-wacked the back acre, they're actually getting a hang of going where they should be going. But, if every time I went out into the backyard and saw a clean yard, I think my inhalation of fresh air and nature would do a lot for my outlook. At least the fact of thinking that at least the OUTSIDE is clean, even if the inside isn't.
I'll keep up the gardening. Maybe I could use some help with filling in the empty spots in the planting beds, but maybe someone could come to me with photos and specs on potential space-filling plants. And then plant them. And make sure the sprinklers are working around them. And maybe when I'm not writing, I could go out there an trim them. Or mention to the Garden Guru that we need another place filler.
And there are so many other positions to be filled, some I enjoy, some not so much. Such as:
Pressure Washer Professor
Kitchen Cabinet Oiling Captain
Kitchen Tile Grout Bleaching Brigadier
Window Washing Wizard
Complete Closet Captain
Garage Keeping Genius
Tree Trimming Trooper
Amongst many other positions I have open to fill. If anyone would like to volunteer their Domestic Super Powers, please e-mail me. Well, okay, I know no one is going to e-mail me, everyone has to do all of this stuff for themselves. But sometimes, we can dream. Dreams of Filing Fairies, Irrepressable Ironers (that one still gets me), and Garden Gurus. But then what would I be left to write about? I don't know, but I'd have a whole heck of a lot more time to do it!
-www.MissBargainHuntress.com
