Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Don't Mind My Lazy, White Trash Ways

Nine AM this morning, I'm in the kitchen starting to sweep the floor after having finished the breakfast dishes. I'm still in Pjs because I want to take a shower, and didn't wake up early enough to do so before we needed to eat, and then Avram left for school while I clean up. The floor is covered with Lydia's kitchen “toys,” an amalgam of magnetic plastic alphabet letters, utensils like a funnel, small egg beater and deep fat fryer strainer that she pulled from kitchen drawers, and kitchen towels she also place on the floor, and finally also lots of little pieces of food gunk and dust. Lydia and Elisheva are also still in Pjs.

And then I hear it; the sound of the maintenance men, Ed and Jack, coming to fill the long list of orders I put in yesterday. I hate it when this happens, when people come and they see me not even dressed yet, and I'm sure they're thinking that all Homemakers must be the laziest, dirtiest women there are. Which may or may not be true, but I must admit this was neither the first or second time I've had maintenance come fix something in apartments I've lived in while still wearing Pjs.

So I shrug at the inevitable, and let them in, and tried not to feel self conscious about my greasy, long and uncombed hair and bedclothing. While they fetch their tools I take the opportunity to sweep the floor at least, and otherwise my kitchen is clean. My living room is even clean. Thank heaven for small favors. Then when I show Ed how the toilet is sluggish and I lift the lid...it is somehow, inexplicably unflushed. What can you do when they've already seen your messy bedrooms and nightclothes? Just shrug, say sorry, and flush it.

I spend the remaining time dressing Lydia and Elisheva (I'm still waiting for my shower), and then try to make small talk about broken things in my house. Scintillating conversation, really, to go along with my shocking appearance. It's a wonder that I have any self decency left at all. Perhaps I don't. They didn't seem to mind; they probably see lazy, Pj wearing homemakers with messy bathrooms and unflushed toilets all the time. I hope.


  1. Very few people care about the details of our lives as much as we do.

    I have had that very exact same day. Except it was the carpet layers arriving a day early.

    They didn't care. And I spent the whole day trying not to.

  2. Oh I hate that. I always think "Crap, right when I'm looking/feeling/the house is at its worst!!" Then I really think about it and I realize that if I don't have advanced notice about stuff like that I pretty much will just always seem un put together.

    The kitchen may be sparkling clean, but the living room won't be tidy. Or the floors may all just have been vacuumed and mopped, but the bathrooms haven't been scrubbed. Ugh. I try not to care.

  3. I feel the same way.

    And then I had a friend who was a cable installer, and he used to tell me how awful people's houses where.

    For a while, that made me feel worse, knowing that they DO notice (and then gosip to their friends about it) but after a while it made me feel better to know it wasn't the ONLY messy, dirty house with unshowered pj clad people he would see that day. So, in a way, it wouldn't really stand out. :P

  4. Yeah, people who go into other people's houses every day have got to have seen many things far worse than this.

    Here's a story to make you feel better: My little sister made my grandma a card. My grandma is a very neat, clean person (actually she hires a cleaning lady) and I know that my mom has sometimes felt a little intimidated by her (her mother-in-law). My grandma came over and my mom told her that my sister had made her a card. She got it and gave it to her. My grandma flipped it open and a HUGE cockroach flew out! I felt so badly for my mom. My grandma is a nice person and tried to make her feel better, but it was SO embarrassing!

  5. Oh yes, I know that feeling. before I finally caved and got myself a set of "brains" (what my mom always called her day planner, and I always made fun of her for) I was frequently surprised when one of Oliver's therapists would show up and we were just getting up. So still in jammies, and the house a mess, including dog hair from two heavy shedders all over the rug where they were wont to sit to do therapy. They constantly responded to my embarrassment "oh don't worry, we've seen way worse" which really just made me feel worse.