Maid to Order

I came home from the gym to find that my dog had chewed up the front cover of one of the O&M manuals for the remediation system I'm working on. Tomorrow I will have to tell my boss that my dog ate my homework. In actuality, it's salvageable, just needs a new binder, I just don't need any more hassles right now.

After a bear of a day at work where I was literally running in heels trying to make sure everything was ready for the big meeting that went down today, I decided to hire a maid.

While it was my first instinct to not tell Darryl (I'm relishing the benefits of separate bank accounts and little financial secrets, these days are fleeting) and see if he just noticed the house was suspiciously clean all of a sudden, I decided to go the direct route. He's always been against the maid idea, but I think this week made a compelling argument as I hurled this news at him while running through the house, stripping out of my work clothes and changing into my gym clothes while microwaving a Morningstar corn dog and jamming it in my mouth as I ran out the door on the way to the gym. Our house has also had a major rotten fish smell all week and I think my little display this afternoon destroyed any hope of it getting clean in the near future and I also pointed out the alternative was him doing more housework in addition to all his yard responsibilities, which would be mounting with the warm weather.

What can I say? When the going gets tough, the tough get a maid.