TCho Bonds With The Help

I've had a really long couple of weeks at work. Everything that could have gone wrong with my projects the past few days has, culminating in a high pressure meeting to review our service level commitments to our client. So work has really been getting me down lately, and my never ending search for a new job has been more and more urgent. I couldn't wait for the holiday so I could just forget about everything. And on Tuesday, I could also look forward to coming home to a sparkling clean apartment, since my cleaning lady was paying me a visit that day.

Earlier, that day, my cleaning lady called to tell me that she got to my apartment late, like around 3, and probably wouldn't be finished until about 9 in the evening. I knew I wouldn't be home till later anyway, so I told her that was fine. I had plans to go to the gym and get some groceries and drop off my shoes at the shoe repair guy, which i thought would fill up my evening nicely.

When I got home around 9:30, I opened the door to my apartment and scared the bejesus out of my cleaning lady. She was actually still there, and she kind of freaked me out too, because I wasn't expecting her. It was nice to see her though. I had some chocolate cake in the fridge, which I gladly shared with her, because I don't want to get fat. We talked about how much plastic surgery we thought Jessica Simpson has had and other matters of great importance. I helped her out a bit, and had to practically pull her down when she stood up on my air conditioner and leaned her entire upper body through my upper window to wash the outer side of my windows. Never mind that it was raining. I really did not want my apartment to be the site of New York's first cleaning lady-cide.

Anyhow, finally, she was done, with some help from me. She gave me my usual homework assignments and then off she went.

Then I spent the next hour moving back all the stuff that she so carefully rearranged, not that I wasn't appreciative.