I don't normally talk much about my maid, Consuela, but she's been with me a long time. Some five or six years now, I think.
Being a rather young individual who left industry to pursue the pensive life of an academic, I find myself in an unfortunate position. Through a rather cautious investment program in the past few years, I managed to stay in the black, but the dividends are drying up and I need to think about the future. I could very well have fifty or sixty years ahead of me and with the economy in such uncertain waters, I find myself taking up an even more cautious position. Indeed, an abundance of caution is the order of the day. Right now, I need to cut back a bit and see what the next few months bring -- otherwise, who knows, another fifty years of this lifestyle may not be in the cards. Or I may end up having to go back into industry to shore things up in the long view (QQ).
Sad to say, in looking at where to cut back, I just couldn't escape the obvious: Consuela would need to go.
It hardly needs to be said that this is quite a blow. The truth is I really dislike housework of every description and there's no way I can match the skill and diligence of a professional. I fear my residence may take a turn toward the slovenly in short order.
As the song goes: Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone? True indeed. Turns out there's already a bit of a backlog of laundry and none of my socks have been pressed. Then of course, there's no one to keep the tea ready. It seems a bit lonely without her already. I suppose I always appreciated the value of her services, but it just doesn't quite hit home until they're gone.
Anyway, with my letters of recommendation, I feel confident she'll land on her feet. In fact, I may know a family who'd hire her straightaway. If our man Barack gets the markets back in the pink within a year or two, I'm sure I'll hire her back someday. But President Obama's words ring true: Those of us in the middle class really do need to make some sacrifices going forward, even if we could never face up to it during the Bush years. Too long have we been self-centered and self-indulgent. There's hard work ahead. For my part, I hope to continue training the best and brightest of the next generation, paving the way, I think, to a better tomorrow. I only regret that poor Consuela ends up getting the short end of the stick this time.
Update: It seems some rather unsavory accusations are being flung around in the comment section, viz. that I am somehow mean-spirited or malicious in my intent here. I will only say that like many diary entries, this was merely a story I needed to get off my chest. I appreciate the opportunity to be read by such a wide audience and doubly so those who've responded with sympathy. But of course, you can't please everyone. The topic of domestic workers seems rather controversial these days and it's no surprise to see the usual tropes of the debate deployed whenever the subject's broached. I assure all of you that I am doing my best to ensure Consuela's transitional period is as brief and comfortable as possible, as, I think, it is my duty as a former employer to do.