They cleared the space. Not everything — the big pieces remained in place. Dining table, sofas, TV, and stand… all still there. But everything else? Out. They carried things past me that I genuinely forgot existed. At one point, I thought, Is that mine? Apparently yes, lol!
And no, I’m not moving. I’m not renovating. I’m not suddenly deciding to live a minimalist life. I’m just getting my floors cleaned.
Starting the new year clean! Not by my regular cleaners (all women, all wonderful, but this job needed a different level of muscle). I brought in the A‑team — the deep‑clean crew. Downstairs floors, upstairs carpets, the whole thing.
They showed up ready, like they had a mission. Honestly, if they’d started communicating in hand signals, I would’ve just nodded and stepped aside.
There’s something oddly entertaining about watching people who know exactly what they’re doing. They took over my house. They move fast, they don’t hesitate, and they don’t ask where anything goes... they just know.
Meanwhile, I’m standing there trying not to get in the way, pretending this is all perfectly normal.
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