I must confess that my cleaning lady just happens to be my whipping boy. After she leaves, no matter what I cannot find, no matter whether I am at fault or my husband at fault, or my grandchildren, whom do I blame? My cleaning lady. For example, my husband picked up a refill from the pharmacist for me. It was my blood pressure pills that also keep my pulse low and steady. I have a Paroxysmal SupraVentricular Tachycardia which means I have two openings to my heart. The normal one and one that sometimes takes over, in my case it could be caffeine or dehydration that sets it off, and then the blood starts rushing the other way. My pulse races, and I get anxious, which makes my heart race, etc., etc. Which is really beside the point. The point is I needed my meds.
I got in late one night from work and I went to the shelf where I keep my meds. I could not find them. I double checked with my husband, who was busy with clients, and he said he picked it up. “What did you do with it?” he asked. I cannot remember mechanical things I do when they are on the periphery. I looked again. I could not find it. I drove to the pharmacy, frantically afraid they might be closed for the night. They confirmed the meds were picked up. I started worrying. I did not want my pulse to race. I got home and looked again and again. There they were the whole time, on the shelf where they were supposed to be. Only this time the pharmacy filled the prescription for 90 days instead of the 30 day supply I received in the past. I did not recognize the pill bottle when I first looked.
Only, instead of explaining, I just said, “Oh, the cleaning lady was here and she puts things away and I can never find them!”
Have you ever used the cleaning lady as your excuse?