See Ya Later, Brain Cells!

Like I mentioned earlier, we are hiring a cleaning lady to come and clean what I imagine to be our already fairly clean apartment before we move but after our stuff is gone. I imagine it be already clean because I refuse to admit that I have lived here for two years without once dusting all of the base boards. Even now I will deny it ... even though I know it is a lie because I just saw the dust behind the bookshelves.

This nice cleaning lady is going to charge $30 an hour for her and one other presumably nice lady to scrub. During our conversation about what happens during a "move out clean" she mentioned that the reason she brings said companion is that, while person number one spends as long as an hour cleaning the oven, person number two can clean the bathroom.

.... that's right, an hour.

You know me -- I'm not into spending more money than I have to. And even though this fact is going to edge me away from "thrifty" and waaaay towards "cheap" in your mind, I'm going to tell you anyway: we are cleaning the oven before she gets here.

And by "we," I mean "Luke."

I probably shouldn't let him be doing that since I'm pretty sure his trip to the 'Stan has left a few brain cells short as it is. Even though he's the one with his head in the oven, the fumes have permeated the entire premises (except for David's room.. which is closed ... and he is sleeping. I think) and now I, too, have had a healthy (sarcasm!) share of the fumes as well.

It's intense.

But the oven is sooooo shiny! And now little cleaning lady doesn't have to even open it. Or the scrub the stove top, for that matter. Ahhaha! Less time she will spend here! And less money I have to pay in the process.

This just in from Luke: "Uuuuugh. I'll be OK. It's only brain cells."