My First World Problem: The House Cleaner Keeps Moving My Stuff

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s around my house. It’s not that she steals my things; she simply places stuff where I don’t want them.It’s absolutely devastating.My heart pounds as I frantically search for the TV remote. Will it be in the drawer where we keep the Blu-rays? Will it be behind the Nintendo Switch? How the fuck am I supposed to watch my Gilmore Girls marathon without a damn remote control, Maria?! You think I’m going to watch it on my iPad like a pleb?If I have any tableware drying next to my sink, she strategically places each one in cabinets and drawers without rhyme or reason. Why is my motivational slogan mug in the same cabinet as the spices? Oh look, she put my son’s Pottery Barn Kids plate in the drawer with the spatulas. Who knows where the measuring cups are hiding. I’m still hunting those down.When I leave dirty dishes in the sink, she’ll wash them and place them…wait for it…in my dishwasher full of dirty tableware because I was too lazy to run it the night before. What

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the fresh hell is that madness? Maria, stop wasting my time by washing the dirty dishes I left for you and then making them dirty again.To add insult to injury, I think she’s trying to Hannibal Lector mind control me into thinking I’m insane. In every room, I have dimmer switches because at any moment I must have the proper lumen for my mood. It’s been a struggle for me ever since incandescent light bulbs were banned and we had to switch to LED bulbs. She leaves them on the lowest setting when she’s finished cleaning each room. It’s the absolute worst. I KNOW, RIGHT?! Then I’m stuck going from room to room adjusting them. Simply ridiculous.Will I say something to Maria? Of course not. She does a wonderful job and quite frankly my life would be absolutely unbearable if I had to clean the bathroom mirrors myself.Don’t worry you guys. I finally found the TV remote but now I’m too exhausted from searching within a 2-foot radius for it that I’m simply going to bed.</article></body>

I face hardships in life.

My First World Problem is my series discussing the struggles I face in life that call for your sympathy.

Every two weeks, on Wednesdays at 9am, my cleaning woman arrives with her helper to expunge my house of all grossness. I absolutely can’t clean it myself since I’m pretty sure I don’t even own a toilet bowl brush. It only makes sense for my lack of cleaning gadgets that I simply hire someone else to handle the responsibility.

Problem is, after Maria leaves I can never find my stuff because she puts things back in random spots around my house. It’s not that she steals my things; she simply places stuff where I don’t want them.

It’s absolutely devastating.

My heart pounds as I frantically search for the TV remote. Will it be in the drawer where we keep the Blu-rays? Will it be behind the Nintendo Switch? How the fuck am I supposed to watch my Gilmore Girls marathon without a damn remote control, Maria?! You think I’m going to watch it on my iPad like a pleb?

If I have any tableware drying next to my sink, she strategically places each one in cabinets and drawers without rhyme or reason. Why is my motivational slogan mug in the same cabinet as the spices? Oh look, she put my son’s Pottery Barn Kids plate in the drawer with the spatulas. Who knows where the measuring cups are hiding. I’m still hunting those down.

When I leave dirty dishes in the sink, she’ll wash them and place them…wait for it…in my dishwasher full of dirty tableware because I was too lazy to run it the night before. What the fresh hell is that madness? Maria, stop wasting my time by washing the dirty dishes I left for you and then making them dirty again.

To add insult to injury, I think she’s trying to Hannibal Lector mind control me into thinking I’m insane. In every room, I have dimmer switches because at any moment I must have the proper lumen for my mood. It’s been a struggle for me ever since incandescent light bulbs were banned and we had to switch to LED bulbs. She leaves them on the lowest setting when she’s finished cleaning each room. It’s the absolute worst. I KNOW, RIGHT?! Then I’m stuck going from room to room adjusting them. Simply ridiculous.

Will I say something to Maria? Of course not. She does a wonderful job and quite frankly my life would be absolutely unbearable if I had to clean the bathroom mirrors myself.

Don’t worry you guys. I finally found the TV remote but now I’m too exhausted from searching within a 2-foot radius for it that I’m simply going to bed.