Revenge of the cleaning lady

Last week, my cleaning lady offered to come bright and early Saturday morning after I closed to clean the new house before I moved in. She showed up at 6:30 a.m. and brought a helper. They spent eight hours scrubbing every nook and cranny. Drawers, cupboards, corners, closets, baseboards, moldings. Wow, the place just sparkled.

Yesterday I moved out of the old place. By "moved," I mean the movers came and transported all the furniture and books and everything else I'd gotten boxed up. This was by no means everything, though. I still had stuff in the basement, and in cupboards and drawers.

Cleaning lady said she would come Monday, which gave me two days to get all that leftover crap out.

Except yesterday she called to say she'd like to come early again this morning and get started. I told her she could start on a couple of the rooms, but I wasn't ready for the full clean yet.

At 6:15 my phone rang. "We're on our way!" I got over there, and she showed up with four helpers. "I'm busy Monday, so we're doing everything today!"

Huh-wha? Noooooooooo!

So there I was, throwing crap into boxes as they started moving stuff around and scrubbing and I didn't have enough boxes and they needed stuff I hadn't brought over (stepstool, more cleaning supplies), and I just about had a mental breakdown.

So I left. Got coffee. Got more boxes. Took my time. Figured, what the hell.

Four hours later they were pretty much done. I still have stuff to get out, and touch-up painting to do, and they still have some cleaning left to do in the basement, but the place is almost showable.

And she got a big check.

Pictures later.