You know since I moved into my new apartment 3 months ago, I've been struggling with the household chores myself.
Well we used to have a part-time housekeeper, a stocky little lady in her fifties, who came to our previous place once a week to do the needful. But since I now live on my own, I figured I would TRY to do the vacuuming, mopping, wiping, laundering, ironing and toilet-cleaning myself.
Who am I kidding? =))
Last week's saucepan is still in the sink, plus a little batallion of wine glasses and cups. There are a couple of dustballs rolling around the living room with the draft from the window. I have run out of T-shirts (and believe you me I have tonnes) because there is a Mt Kilimanjaro of un-ironed clothes piled up in my dressing room. And I won't begin to describe the state of un-loo-lessness my toilets are in =P
This is turning into one heck of a filthy pad.
So last week, I swallowed my pride, picked up that handphone, and dialled the number of my Conjuror of Chores. My Matrony Messiah of The Mess. Auntie G. And she agreed to pluck me out from the depths of dirt and despair.
Salvation starts later today while I am out at work.
Thank God!!! =))