Dirty Talk

So last night, over what was to be a relaxing dinner with my boyfriend, conversation turned dirty. Not that kind of dirty (and if it did, I certainly wouldn't post about it here!). Dirty as in talking about living together, and more specifically cleaning together. (Yes, as evidenced by this blog, the subject seems to be an obsession of mine). And eventually it came out that once we live together, my boyfriend is interested in the possibility of hiring a cleaning lady. A cleaning lady!? Isn't that what people who aren't on student loans do? People who have established themselves in their professional lives, people who do things like drinking nice wine instead of relying on Two Buck Chuck, people who own their homes rather than rent them?

Before I knew it, I was saying no. What person in their right mind says no when someone says, "Gee, I'd like to ensure that this place stays clean, and therefore, I'd like to hire a cleaning lady. I will pay for it so it won't cost you a dime"? Me. And perhaps it's because I'm not in my right mind.

Or maybe it's just because I'm in a very Puritanical frame of mind. To me, having a cleaning lady signifies that you're financially in a position where you can afford to hire out help to do things you can do perfectly well yourself. And I'm NOT THERE. Financial independence and self-sufficiency are concepts I highly value. I also value taking ownership for the things that you have and keeping those things nice. Furthermore, using money as away to avoid doing something that may not be enjoyable, but something that most consider part of life makes me extaordinarily anxious. Never mind the whole socio-political dilemma of supporting an industry in which health benefits don't exist, many of the staff are illegal immigrants, and which, some argue, perpetuates a classist division where "liberated women" in fact stand on the backs of other women whose liberation they squash.

My boyfriend, who I admire for his non-materialism, gravely fears becoming a slave to the things he owns. As such, he keeps his possessions to a bare minimum (except, oddly, for shoes). For him, the cost of hiring a cleaning lady (apparently the going rate is something like $50 for top-to-bottom spotlessness --- can anyone say illegal immigrant?), is worth not feeling tied to keeping up your possessions/space. Hiring a cleaning lady liberates the time that you'd otherwise have to spend DOING IT YOURSELF. (As I estimate this amounts to about 4 hours a month, plus the time spent not looking forward to the cleaning, minus the time spent feeling satisfied that cleaning is done). Granted, because he's a medical student, free time is a very precious commodity. Last night, I learned that many of his peers (even the one we've been giving our tupperwared left overs to because he's running so low on funds) have already hired their cleaning out.

By the way, I can't imagine this discussion even taking place if the boy and I hadn't come of age in the Internet boom, where things were good, the President was getting head, and everyone seemed to be living the life of Riley. So while you thank your lucky stars that you aren't dating anyone as neurotic and Puritanical as myself, I'm interested to hear your thoughts on the matter. Am I just a crazy relic of the witch trial days?