Showing posts with label housecleaners. Show all posts
Showing posts with label housecleaners. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Hotels AGAIN.

You are all well acquainted with the Things I Do when staying at a hotel.



Remember how I said that the next time I stay at a hotel, I was going to stay in a Hampton Inn? Because they wash their actual duvets and also have kickass hilarian commercials?





Well I think I've just changed my mind. I think the next time I brave a hotel room it will be a Best Western. Because here are the new rules they are implementing:



  • Ultra violet (UV) sterilization wands– Wands from Purelight are used to sterilize "high touch points' in the hotel such as telephones, clocks, light switches, door handles, bathroom fixtures and common areas.  [Ed. Note: A recent study found that the main light switch in hotel rooms is the ickiest, germiest, fecal-matterest location in the entire joint, coming in at 112.7 CPU (colony-forming units of bacteria, per cubic centimeter). The recommended level for "cleanliness" is a mere 5 CPU. Why, that's, that's, well, a lot more CPUs. GROCE.]
  • UV inspection black lights – These black lights are used as part of the housekeeper inspection process to detect any biological matter [Ed. Note: Read, human spermatozoa], food particles [Ed. Note: Read, vom], and more [Ed. Note: Read, blood and urea], that the human eye cannot see. 
  • Clean remotes or wraps for the remote control device – These unique, seamless remote controls are designed specifically to make it easy to clean and disinfect before each guest stay. 
  • Pillow and blanket wraps – Extra pillows, blankets and towels are wrapped in 100 percent recyclable and biodegradable single use wraps to ensure guests know that these products have been cleaned just for them. 




It sounds good, nay, it sounds outfuckingstanding, but how do we know they will actually adhere to such strict standards? How do we know that Brunhilde the Maid has run a black light over the bed's headboard and bleached away the spooge and vag-hands? that she has used a sterilization wand after Cloroxing the bathtub so as to eradicate bum-bum-chowder germs? How do we know that is has occurred to Brunhilde to sterilize the coffeemaker and the microwave buttons?

In the same vein as not knowing whether Brunhilde has actually disinfected the toilet seat or has actually cleansed the water glasses that are covered with a paltry paper wrapper stating "For Your Convenience," we will never actually know whether anything has actually been cleaned. But, let's just hope they have some semblance of decency in their hearts to actually go through with these hygiene measures. LET US PRAY TO JESUS, CHILD. Pray that hotel employees become more adept at removing fecal coliform and escherichia coli and salmonella and staphylococcus aureus from our vacation spots.



I like where they heads is at, tho, dog. I like where they heads is at. UV wands and black lights and TV remote-control condoms and fresh blanket wraps FOR ALL.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

I'm One Dust Bunny Away From Going Gilbert Grape on This Fucker.

Sometimes I get so down on my house, so overwhelmed. I clean constantly, I clean all day long, I clean the same things over and over again. I wipe, I scrub, I disinfect. But the place never looks clean. My husband comes home and has no idea I've even done anything, because he can't tell. There's just so much clutter, and so much stuff I'm never able to get to. Sometimes I just want to go Gilbert Grape on this mofo and burn it to the ground. No matter who or what is still in the upstairs.

If there's always one thing I've wanted to treat myself to, it would be a deep, deep housecleaning. Especially with all these deals I see on Living Social or Groupon ("Three hours of deep house cleaning for only $49!" or "Two 4-hour sessions of all natural, organic cleaning for just $69! Regularly $249!").

I want to do it. I want so badly to do it. I want to come home to a sparklingly fresh home cleaner than I could ever get it. But I can't.



As I've mentioned, even though my OCD means that all the touchable surfaces in my house are bleach-clean, like anyone else the dust and clutter and grime in my house does tend to build up in the nooks and crannies. I may have cleaned the deepest, darkest recesses of S's house like a whirling dervish and sanitized like a white demon, but that was easy because I was starting with a clean slate. My house is already so lived in that the thought of a true spring cleaning, like, where you get out an old toothbrush and scrub the baseboards, makes me want to faint. I do not have that kind of motivation. I may have OCD but, as mentioned, I am one hell of a lazy ass.



So the perfect solution would be to hire a housecleaner! Right? Right! Right? ...Right?

Except I can't bear the thought. Because I'm so afraid that my house will end up germier than it started. Sure, it will be neat and tidy and glisteningly fresh: clean to the naked eye. But what of the germs? OH GOD WHAT OF THE GERMMMMS?



I would have no control over whether the cleaning person used the same sponge to clean the floors and the counters, or if she used the same tools at the last home as she used at my home. I would have no idea if she changed gloves after cleaning the bathroom before she went to work on the kitchen. I have no control over whether she has an eye for cross-contamination. I would be a sweating, dry-heaving mass of What Ifs. I would be roiling bundle of nerves. I would be beside myself with panic.



So it wouldn't exactly be a decadent luxury for me, not if it caused this much fucking anxiety. Christ.

Thus, every time I see a Living Social deal that I can't pass up, I have to pass it up. Because I can't see myself calling them up and being like, "So, I know this is weird, but do you cater to people with OCD? Do your maids take off their shoes before entering the premises? Do they have all-new tools and scrubbies? Do any of your employees have infrared eyesight and the ability to see germs as if they were hotblooded robbers on the getaway? Just wondering, because I've got a touch of the crazies, see."



Sucks. Because I really, really, really, really want someone to come in and clean all the things I never get to. I want to come home to the freshest, cleanest house I've ever had. I really really want it, and my house really really needs it. But I don't think my brain can allow it.

Not to mention...

Why is the Merry Maids car designed like a slug?



This does not inspire confidence, guys.


Anyway, maybe this is another one for Mr. Obama's Job Creation Act: Housecleaners for the OCDers among us. They would remove their shoes upon entry or at least wear shoe hairnets; they would wear rubber gloves and change them with delicious regularity; they would use new (straight from the package) sponges; they would use all new tools or at least those that had been certified disinfected; they would clean the rooms in order of germiness: bedroom and living rooms first, then kitchen, then bathroom, with all new sponges and rags and gloves each time; they would use vast amounts of bleach; and so forth. Maybe they'd even have an inspector watching them at all times, like my Cook Area Inspector (linked above). This would be Cleaning Area Inspector. They would ensure no cross-contamination. Then maybe I could do it. Then maybe I could hire a housecleaner. God knows how much I'd love to, God knows that even though I disinfect constantly, this whole place needs a good head-to-toe scrubbing.



Anyway for now, I will have to suffer through having a cluttered but Cloroxed homestead, and deal with dirty base molding, dusty picture frames, and a cobweb or two on the ceiling. Sigh.