Whistling While I Work

This morning I finished the third and last day of helping with the kitchen renovation, in an aerie of a pre-war building, in a neighbourhood where I used to work full-time. When I cycled home again, it was the same route my sister and I took in 2018, when we would sometimes walk home from the office together.

It was an easy half hour: polishing the floor with a cloth while my employer did the other half of the floor, lightly scrubbing a refrigerator drawer, and helping move three bulky pieces of furniture. Then she pressed 20€ into my hands, I thanked her for the excellent organization (she even bought a pair of latex-free rubber gloves for me to use, in case I had an allergy to latex), and we parted ways pleased with each other.

Two days earlier I'd arrived to find that the apartment was on an upper floor. The first tasks largely involved packing the kitchen objects into cardboard boxes, carrying out furniture, scrubbing the refrigerator, and vacuuming the walls and floor.

Walking down and up the stairs was a little exhausting, but I tried to breathe as regularly as possible at the top so as not to seem too unfit. — I was truthful when replying to the job advertisement when I mentioned running and cycling regularly. The problem being that I've stopped the running training because my blood pressure was rising (maybe because the running was making me feel stressed?) and I began to feel short of breath even when I went out for short shopping trips. So am I really fit? I don't know.

At the end of Day One, I didn't feel too bad when I started cycling home, and felt fortunate because ice cream was waiting for me in the freezer ... But a few hours later I felt so tired that I just sprawled on my bed and began to drift off. Then in the evening I had a gouging headache that didn't entirely go away by the next morning, and I began to wonder if I was taking dumb medical risks.

The second day, I cleaned the under-sink cupboard and the gas oven as directed (removing the dials and the paraphernalia around the oven's burners), washed the plank floor with a special wood soap, etc. Afterward I felt dandy, strong as an ox, and had a nice healthy lunch at home. Besides it inspired me to venture more boldly into cleaning my room, because I've learned a few more techniques from my employer that I want to explore further. Thirdly, I feel like I'm finally doing the type of job that I wanted to do as a teenager, but didn't feel confident to go out and ask about — because I've labored under the Eeyore-esque conviction that nobody believes that I can be capable at anything practical.

...I know this is a boring and self-centred summary. But at least in my slightly sleep-deprived frame of mind it's hard to think if ways to describe cleaning at someone else's home in engaging detail without violating their privacy.

Anyway, I earned €200, instead of the expected €150, which was a happy surprise. I have already used some of it to pay off a debt to one of my brothers: years ago, he kindly allowed me to use his credit card for a few subscriptions e.g. to the Guardian. I set up a monthly bank transfer to his card to defray the costs. But due to inflation these subscriptions are more expensive than they once were, and I want to pay him the balance. For the rest, I'm hoping to buy yarn (to mend my socks), ice cream, and maybe fruit and vegetables at the street market tomorrow — and perhaps transfer another payment into my private pension fund.