I am not sure who I love more. My new Miele dishwasher or Carlos the installer who clearly has a fondness for taking off his shoes before entering your home. He lays down mats EVERYWHERE to protect your flooring. Wears properly fitted pants. Asks to use your bathroom. AND does not leave oil stains on your driveway.
"Darling it rained and there's a nasty puddle, I'm afraid my gorgeous shoes and my lovely dress will spoil and l..." And without a word he lays down his mat.
Three verifiable things about me. One. I am an only child. The concept of sharing, therefore, is foreign to me. Two. I am a Virgo. The sign regarded as a perfectionist. Three. My mother raised me to be meticulously clean; compulsively tidy. According to my mother, "You have taken this clean thing way too far." I disagree. Apologies to my mother.
Nature or nurture? Who knows? Who cares? I have not been diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Nor would I label myself a Cleanaholic. Or a Germaphobe. My world though, is definitely a unique place. One where doors open magically. Hotel mattresses are pristine. And estheticians never double dip.
I live in this world without a bubble or a honeycomb mask. About 15 years ago I got tired of catching the flu du jour and became ever more so hygienically vigilant -- perhaps obsessively so.
He'd make a chivalrous companion.
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