The wind has been howling in Dublin lately. It shook the building all day yesterday, so much so that my friend Susan offered to drive me home.
Getting home quicker was the last thing I wanted--I stayed at work til 7 to avoid it--but it had to happen sometime, so I hopped in Susan's car and she jettisoned me home.
Now, before we got there, we stopped at our coworker Damien's house for a cup of tea. I mentioned I was starving and he said, "But sure, you've got pizza in the oven back at your gaff (house), don't you?" LOL! That's hilarious.
When I did make it home a half hour later, I walked in to find an empty house. Correction: an empty, SPOTLESS house. The entire home had been cleaned top to bottom. I'm talking mopped floors, dusted furniture, fluffed pillows--the works.
Now, the house has been filthy since I moved in, because I clean enough to pull my own weight, but I'm not going to pull the weight of 3 people. I hoped that they would get the message and if I say, swept the floors and took out the garbage, they'd clean the counters or sink or something in turn. But....no. So the house stays dirty, and that's that.
When I left on Monday to go to the hotel, the house was a disaster zone. Cooked food on the counters and spills all over and the garbage full and, of course, a charred pizza in the oven. But when I came in the door last night, the house had been cleaned by someone else's hands for the first time since I set foot in that house.
It was great, but a little odd. Something had changed. I ate dinner then went to my room to read magazines and...well, not be around when people got home. All was quiet until about 11 when Chantelle meekly knocked on my door. I told her to come in.
"The electric bill came," she said mousily in almost a whisper. Also, she looked at me from sulky, upturned eyes. It's one of her most annoying traits.
"Okay."
"It was €59"
".....okay."
"I paid it from the community pot."
"Is that all?"
"Yes. Goodnight."
Then she literally backed out of my room without turning away from me and slid the door shut silently. I........think.........she was being contrite? I think she feels bad, but is emotionally retarded and can't say it. Or maybe she just realizes how mean and overbearing and sloppy she and her family have been the last 2 months, and is now trying to pick up the slack.
I had to smile to myself, because change had definately come to 59 Grange Wood Drive, but for me, it is too little, too late. This morning I'm busy answering replies to my roommate wanted ads, and I'm happily imagining myself living elsewhere after Christmas. Meek Chantelle should have made an appearance long before now.
But nevertheless, just desserts were served last night. And they tasted oh so sweet.
Getting home quicker was the last thing I wanted--I stayed at work til 7 to avoid it--but it had to happen sometime, so I hopped in Susan's car and she jettisoned me home.
Now, before we got there, we stopped at our coworker Damien's house for a cup of tea. I mentioned I was starving and he said, "But sure, you've got pizza in the oven back at your gaff (house), don't you?" LOL! That's hilarious.
When I did make it home a half hour later, I walked in to find an empty house. Correction: an empty, SPOTLESS house. The entire home had been cleaned top to bottom. I'm talking mopped floors, dusted furniture, fluffed pillows--the works.
Now, the house has been filthy since I moved in, because I clean enough to pull my own weight, but I'm not going to pull the weight of 3 people. I hoped that they would get the message and if I say, swept the floors and took out the garbage, they'd clean the counters or sink or something in turn. But....no. So the house stays dirty, and that's that.
When I left on Monday to go to the hotel, the house was a disaster zone. Cooked food on the counters and spills all over and the garbage full and, of course, a charred pizza in the oven. But when I came in the door last night, the house had been cleaned by someone else's hands for the first time since I set foot in that house.
It was great, but a little odd. Something had changed. I ate dinner then went to my room to read magazines and...well, not be around when people got home. All was quiet until about 11 when Chantelle meekly knocked on my door. I told her to come in.
"The electric bill came," she said mousily in almost a whisper. Also, she looked at me from sulky, upturned eyes. It's one of her most annoying traits.
"Okay."
"It was €59"
".....okay."
"I paid it from the community pot."
"Is that all?"
"Yes. Goodnight."
Then she literally backed out of my room without turning away from me and slid the door shut silently. I........think.........she was being contrite? I think she feels bad, but is emotionally retarded and can't say it. Or maybe she just realizes how mean and overbearing and sloppy she and her family have been the last 2 months, and is now trying to pick up the slack.
I had to smile to myself, because change had definately come to 59 Grange Wood Drive, but for me, it is too little, too late. This morning I'm busy answering replies to my roommate wanted ads, and I'm happily imagining myself living elsewhere after Christmas. Meek Chantelle should have made an appearance long before now.
But nevertheless, just desserts were served last night. And they tasted oh so sweet.
sweeeeeeeeeeeeet
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