As I reach to wipe the bathroom taps, Lila Downs wailing on my headphones, I notice my cleavage moves when I flex my pecs – from a firm line to a sideways open smile. So I do what anyone would naturally do: I lip sync the rest of Paloma Negra by bust. Who knew my boobs spoke Spanish? They’re damn good. And as they sing, I muse, “Something like this on Youtube could potentially generate more income than all my royalties put together.”
My phone binkybinks. Incoming message. I gasp.
It’s my boss. I immediately straighten (as if she could see what I was doing in Mr Tidy Pant’s apartment mirror) and I read. Oh oh. My last job I completely forgot to look in two drawers, one contained, inexplicably, a million plastic forks. I left the alarm clock in the bathroom for some unknown reason and I neglected to clean the sink. I totally pulled an Amelia Bedelia. My boss kindly offers, “I don’t mean to be knit picky…” Oh goodness she’s too kind! A little distracted, are we, Lucia?! Gee. We could eat sushi off the window sills they are so clean but I forget the sink. Luckily I have time to go fix it before the next client moves in.
As I drive home, wearily Windexed, I think about my stories. Sometimes people ask me why I clean houses. Well, I clean so I can think. Nobody is allowed to hire my creative brain for anything but art. I’m a stubborn cuss, very protective of my energy. Yes, I would rather wash windows than answer phones. Though…admittedly, I do like to strut downtown in a pencil skirt and heels…but for many years my art did pay the bills and I’m sure it will again…it’s just lately…you know, with that little thing called a child and that little thing called a mortgage.
“And what did I use with my creative brain today besides cleavage lip syncing?”
I challenge myself, sharply.
“Nothing.” I answer self, sheepishly.
“Precisely. Don’t be a maid for no reason. Get cracking!”
So, at home…I make dinner, clean my own house and do four loads of laundry, bake bread, deal with emails, rewrite a syllabus, shower and finally…finally…this. My favourite part of my day. Writing to you, hoping to give you a giggle. Happy to clean for it. Happy to give it away.
