Hiring help and the guilt therein

Well, after months of resentment and bickering, I hired someone to come into my home and clean it every two weeks. This makes me certain that I am an upper-middle-class-spoiled-DINK-suburban woman. Yet when I walked into the house today, for one quick moment all of that self-judgement melted away. No matter how hard I've cleaned in the past, I've never lived somewhere that shined and sparkled like this. These women (there were three of them) are good.

It reminds me about the power of specialization. It works.

On the other hand, I am gloating about a crisp clean house when women in Lebanon are hoping not to be killed by bombs. Perhaps my priorities are mixed up.

Perhaps it is my recent visit to southern Alabama where some members of my family are not living in conditions that I would call clean. The smell of cleaning products, perhaps, is making me a little dizzy. Perhaps I am just happy to be in my own home today.

In any case, given the amount of guilt I have about spending that money on housecleaning help (money that could feed a family each month or help support a local artist) , I am simply shocked at my elation. I have a great sense of relief about work that I not only don't have to do, but that will be done by someone better than me. Perhaps I should think of it as employing three incredibly skilled women. I don't know. Maybe there is no excuse for my rich laziness.

But, damn, I like when the carpet has that just vacuumed look. Don't you?