The Power of Perseverance

Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean with one arm? And the left arm, at that. Friday morning I woke up, after having tossed and turned all night with a fever, unable to lift my right arm more than a couple of inches. And that, with a lot of pain! I had gotten two vaccinations the day before-- flu and pneumonia-- and I was having a pretty negative reaction to the pneumonia shot. Maybe I should have waited until I was completely well and off my antibiotics to get them, but I am not known for my patience. So I was a real mess when I went in to work at the church-- staggering, aching all over, and probably a little disheveled.

I really didn’t want to go. I know-- I am not the first person to go into work feeling bad. People do it every day. I can attest to that fact because of the toilets I clean (yes, that is exactly what I mean), and from the cold medicines and Kleenex on people’s desks. But cleaning requires quite a bit of physical energy and endurance as it is. Especially when it come to hefting big, heavy trash bags when one of your arms is out of commission! And that leads me to the power of perseverance.

I have not always been known for my stick-to-itiveness. I have started and quit more pursuits than I care to admit to. Now, I am not really talking about some past romantic relationships here-- those, I should have walked away from long before I did-- in fact, before I got married. But that aside, I have jumped into situations impulsively (or maybe out of desperation), and quickly given up when things got too hard (or too boring). Take helicopter flight training in the Army: having left it when I was 18, partly because of my bad knees, and mostly because I was terrified to give a public speech, I always regretted my chicken-hearted decision. That is probably what propelled me, 4 years ago, to sign up for a private flight school in Las Vegas. It felt like a second chance to follow my dream of being a pilot. I’m sure it was also influenced by my desperation to get away from an awful situation in Illinois, and reclaim some of my spirit that was in jeopardy of being destroyed permanently. Well, long story short, I could not physically handle the flying with my fibromyalgia, but I did get to fly! It was an opportune time to leave anyway, because the school went belly-up within 6 months and all my class-mates were defrauded out of their full tuition (yes, I lost a substantial amount, also). For once I was thankful I did not stick to it.

Since then, having lost much in the economic turmoil of 2008, I have finally learned to put aside my comfort, and even any feelings of entitlement, and plug away-- no matter how tiring, boring, humbling, and inconsequential my actions seem. The fatigue is overwhelming at times, and it seems I will forever chip away at my debt, but it feels good to be doing whatever I can for myself.

So on Saturday night (I still was pretty incapacitated), when my step-son asked if I felt bad, and wondered if I was going to work, I said, “Well, yeah! There isn’t anyone else to clean the church and have it ready for tomorrow morning’s services.” He looked pretty surprised, and didn’t seem to to think it was fair. As I have said many times in the past, life isn’t fair. And as I had told him just the previous week when he didn’t want to study, sometimes (a lot of times) you have to do things you don’t feel like doing. I left my nice, clean church at 11:30 that night, feeling pretty satisfied with myself (and much better than the night before when I left with tears in my eyes from the misery). By the time I arrived for the late service on Sunday morning, you could no longer see clean carpet through all the donut sprinkles. And there were coffee spills all over the tile. Oh well. Such is the circle of cleaning. And if that doesn’t teach perseverance, I don’t know what does.

Let me introduce myself...

Who am I? I am the cleaning lady. Some might wonder if that anonymous term is, in itself, an oxymoron. Can you clean ungodly things from a stranger’s toilet (with no gloves) on your knees and still be a lady? It is without question one of the “lower” jobs I can imagine. It is dirty, doesn’t pay that well, is physically exhausting, doesn’t really require much of an education, and is the type of job in which some people just look through you-- as if you are a non-person. Being a somewhat attractive, poised, educated, and “well-bred” woman, that is not something I ever experienced before.
What those people don’t know is that I have lived on the other side. I had one of those big suburban homes with the huge walk-in closets, a manicured yard, manicured nails. I was a homemaker, though I will say I never would have had someone else clean my house! I was probably one of the many who didn’t have to think too much about the people with the common jobs, and didn’t really know anyone like that. I was never wealthy, and try as I might, I couldn’t ever fit into that world. It was very empty and shallow, and, especially if you weren’t a mom, you were not really part of the club-- the “Suburban Mom Club.”
That being said, I didn’t ever imagine I would be on the other side, so to speak. I sometimes wonder if my ex’s, who are kind of full of themselves, know what I’m doing. I actually wish they did because it proves that I am strong and determined, don’t care what most people think of me, and am happier than I ever was with them!
But experiencing this side, coupled with my previous life, reveals so many truths about life and the people who occupy it. The anonymity of being a cleaning lady allows you to see and hear everything. I never snoop, but some people just leave all their personal items out for everyone to see. Well, I imagine they would put them away if company were coming, but for the help? No. And they talk to each other (right in front of you!) in ways that you would think might be embarrassing-- if anyone “important” could hear them. Oh, yes-- I have many stories to share! What I have noticed, though, is that not all people look through you. Some of my customers are the kindest, more respectful, and self-respecting people I know. They treat me like a person! And the way people treat “the cleaning lady” really says more about their character than it does about mine. And, yes, you can be a lady while you clean toilets.

Day off

What to do on my day off...what to do... I wander from room to room, trying to get motivated and buckle down and do something productive-- or creative-- something to exercise my mind! Not that I don’t exercise my mind while I clean. I definitely do that! I can’t say that cleaning is a mindless job-- it isn’t. If you do it well, it takes a lot of common sense and some planning to be efficient and thorough. But once you have your routine down, you have a lot of room in the brain for deep, philosophical thinking. Probably not all the thoughts are quite as profound as they seem when they pop into the head while cleaning someone's toilet. Maybe the philosophizing is something I naturally do to make it seem more worthwhile.

I never dreamed that I would be where I am, “professionally.” Being a professional cleaner is not something I planned on. Maybe that is the problem-- that I didn’t really have a plan. I had dreams (more like fantasies) of being a horse jockey, then a horse trainer when I became over 5’ 4” when I was about 10. Then my goals sort of wandered between being an engineer (the practical part of me) and being a helicopter pilot (that sounds much better!) But, alas, I got married too young instead, and tried to create my identity through my husband, and well-- I lost myself. Long story. I lived a few decades thinking I had reached some sort of success with my husband, but I did not develop a career. I have a Bachelor’s degree (with honors!), but it is in pre-med and history. What do you do with that? So after losing the financial security of my marriage (and vowing to never depend on a man again), I determined to do whatever I had to do (within moral boundaries) to earn a living. What I didn’t know was how much cleaning would teach me.

But more on that later. Right now it’s my day off after a long weekend of cleaning, and I want to enjoy my Monday. It sure is a mess around here-- maybe I’d better go clean my kitchen floor now.