Spring cleaning time has come which means a very busy season for me. All of my clients want the spring cleaning treatment, although some of them have very different ideas of what that actually means. For the few sane ones I clean for, we do the usual deep-cleaning routine—wiping inside the cabinets, decluttering, washing curtains and blinds, and throwing away the expired eighty ounces of ranch dressing you bought from Costco.
Then there are my dear little trainwrecks. For them, spring cleaning takes on a whole new meaning.
Around this time every year, Midge gets a whiff of Spring and decides to sober up. You can almost set your watch by it. So my spring cleaning job is to scour her house looking for stashed liquor bottles. I do look forward to the Great Easter Booze Hunts because she lets me take home my finds.
Unfortunately, just like the clocks, she usually falls back in a few months.
Then there is my young artist. Spring cleaning is an anxiety-ridden sob-fest for this addled little snowflake. In the weeks leading up to “The Day”, she draws organizational plans for every room in the house, each neatly labeled and drawn to scale, even down to the contents of the kitchen cabinets. Then on “The Day”, I walk in to find her blubbering in the corner on the floor surrounded by the entire contents of said cabinets and half the furniture turned upside down. Springpocalypse has sprung.
Weightlifting Bachelor is more of a Spring wardrobe guy so I put away all of his long tank tops and shorts and break out the cut-off tank tops and shorts. And the Speedos of course.
And I won’t even go into what the Greys have me do in their Garden of Earthly Delights. Needless to say I wear full-body coveralls for that particular day.
So even though spring cleaning can be a daunting task, it can be very rewarding in the end. Just be sure to pop your meds first and I’ll help with the rest.