Panic!

Some years ago, when I was still (un)gainfully employed at Coma HQ, I happened to pick up a phone-call for one of my Japanese bosses. It was her landlady who wanted me to pass on the message that there had been an attempted burglary. She assured me that nothing had been stolen as the wannabe-burglars had probably been disturbed as they were fiddling with the lock and that said lock would be exchanged the very same day. I told my boss, stressing the fact that locksmiths were on the way already and the landlady would let them in. Hearing this, she almost jumped and gave me a look of utter despair, "But I haven't cleaned up the kitchen. My flat is a mess!" I found this somewhat exaggerated and totally out of proportion, thinking I in her place would be glad that nothing had been stolen and not worried about a messy flat in the least.

Well. 

I have a cleaner who comes once a fortnight while I'm at work. It's every second Wednesday and therefore not really hard to remember. On the Wednesdays when she is due, I leave money and - if needed- instructions for her. Some weeks ago, she texted me that her husband was terminally ill and she would not come for a while. She sent me another text to let me know that she would return to work on Oct. 27 and I made a note in my - electronic- calendar. As the 26th was a public holiday, I didn't switch the computer on to check my calendar entries and I only saw the reminder on my phone on Wednesday morning...when I remembered that I had left my flat in quite a state. I had come home late from KLU the night before and didn't feel like unpacking all my stuff. Needless to say, I hadn't prepared the vacuum cleaner, floor mop, pile of clothes to be ironed, etc., nor her money. I did a quick mental inventory:

bedroom (bed made, but without the cover and cushions on it), clothes on the chairs
living room (half-emptied clothes horse, magazines everywhere)
hallway (luggage, shoes and miscellaneous items all over the place)
kitchen (ok)
bathroom (ok)
spare bedroom (ok)
toilet (ok)

I realised that she would probably already be on her way to my place and called to profusely apologise for the mess and ask for her bank details.

I know what you're thinking. If this had happened to a friend, I'm sure I would have told them they should just chill and that the whole point of a cleaner was to clean and clear away messes so no need to get stressed. 

I'm officially uncool.