Dearest Rachel –
Were I still gainfully employed, and deriving my living from so being, this would be a debilitating quirk of mine, this insistence that I be at home when Kris comes over to clean the house. It’s not out of any desire to supervise her or her work; even if she didn’t already come highly recommended by both friends and family, I’m in no position to gainsay her expertise. She knows what she’s doing, and even the few special requests I’ve made of her (like washing the air fryer, which can’t simply be put in the dishwasher) have become part of her routine.
Although, now that I think of it, I may need her help in getting the bed stripped and the contour sheet folded once I’ve washed it. I don’t know how you managed to do that on your own, back in the day. Granted, you would often enlist my help when you would launder them on a weekend, but I’m pretty sure you did it on your own on more than one occasion – and, being nearly a head shorter than me, that had to be that much more difficult for you to accomplish. I certainly haven’t mastered the art.
No, the reason I stick around for her to come and do her job is because I’d just as soon pay her for services rendered once the services are rendered. It’s one thing to let a credit card bill sit for a week or two while I earn a little bit more interest on the money in my bank account; as long as everything gets paid before the due date, no harm is done, and it increases my credit rating to have (and pay off) debt on a regular basis. But owing private individuals just doesn’t sit well with me. My dad, quoting his dad (I think), will say “I’d rather owe it to you than cheat you out of it,” but I’d rather not owe anyone in the first place. If I’m here when she wraps up, I can write the check right then and there, and have done with it.
The thing is, this precludes my heading out to the ‘office’ for the day. Granted, I rarely ever have anything pressing that requires me to be over there as opposed to being here at home. The one exception is when I meet Lars to walk, and usually, she’s been at the task already long enough to know how much more time she’ll need to accomplish her work, so I can write the check before I leave.
My ‘work’ isn’t quite so demanding as all that, and theoretically, I can do it at all home just as easily. The computer in the bedroom has the power to generate AI artwork (and I’m more likely to be able to leave it running on such a task, meaning that most of my T-shirt designs have been created here, rather than at the office), while I have a dual-screen setup in the office upstairs that could serve just as well for the finance work I need to do now and then for the church and camp – and, as it so happens, I’ve got a few transactions I need to record, thanks to my discussions late last week with several of the staffers at camp.
It’s just a lot more challenging to actually knuckle down and do these things here at the house than when I’ve deliberately removed myself from here to force myself to focus on the task at hand. There are so many things here to distract me from those tasks, be it the compulsion to hang out with Daniel and keep him company, to the various diversions, both digital and analog, that fill this house, even after purging so much from it back during the first year after your departure; I’ve had time to accrue a whole new batch of such things, after all – not that I got rid of much of “my” stuff during that purge to begin with.
To be fair, today seems to be turning out to be a bit easier than I feared it might. Daniel’s gone upstairs to bathe in preparation for tonight’s activities at Sparks, so that takes care of any need to hang around with him (on the contrary, in fact, and that’s just fine). And from what I gather from some mornings I’ve spent here at the house, he usually does occupy himself with his own news feed, which I have no interest in sharing with him, but can’t seem to bring myself to forbid him from absorbing (I don’t feel like I have the right to do that, even as his parent and effective landlord). So maybe I overstate that particular aspect of what I consider to be a responsibility of mine. Meanwhile, with Kris occupying various rooms of the house as she goes about her work, it behooves me to get – and keep – out of her way as much as possible. Confining myself to the upstairs office is an effective method of doing that, allowing me to focus a little better.
Meanwhile, thanks to her being here, I’ve set a few things in motion that have little to do with work, but have a lot to do with general housework that I’ve been meaning to do, but couldn’t bring myself to deal with on my own. I mentioned the bed already – and it seems like most of our queen-size contour sheets no longer fit the bed, for some reason. Is it a matter of shrinkage over time, or the fact that mattresses are thicker than they used to be? Kris suggests I ought to get a king-size set, and see how it works – that, and a couple of tighter belts, might as well be added to my Christmas list, I guess. I’ve also gone and put together a batch of what were supposed to be chocolate chip crispy rice treats, since she’s here to clean up after me (yes, I’m the opposite of most people who employ a cleaning lady; while others clean up the house before they get there, I do as much as possible to keep her occupied. Not sure what that says about either of us, but there you go).
Now, I realize that most of what I’m telling you about trying to ‘work’ – and otherwise get stuff done – here at home comes as no surprise to you. Even in your Bible study notes, you would occasionally comment about how hard it was to do things you felt you should do when there was so much else you wanted to do. And you didn’t have the luxury of being able to leave the house in order to accomplish those things, as your ‘job,’ as it were, was to take care of the house; the place was your workplace. But when it’s also your home, it’s hard to set aside the “home” for the “house.” If it’s any consolation, the housework is getting done, honey – just not always (or even often) by me.
As for what I consider to be actual work, well… I’ll get to it as soon as I let you go. So with that said, keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 