I have been working for him for a week. I start getting used to housework. Now I understand how difficult it was to my house maid. Even this house I only one fifth of my house but it is a real handful. Why are there so many things to do inside the house, cleaning the floor, cleaning the table, cleaning the window, cleaning the bathrooms, cleaning the bedrooms.

Cleaning is not as easy as I thought. I never have to clean and the worst part is I never even looked at anyone do cleaning before. My room before had to be cleaned when I was not at home and wherever I was sitting in the house, the maid had to stop cleaning so the dusk couldn’t disturb me. I never thought of a day that I have to do all the cleaning. This time when I come back, I definitely will treat my maids better. I should give them the raise too. They did really good job keeping my house clean especially to an OCD maniac like me.

 I have to Google how to clean the house. The internet is very useful but very confusing at the same time too. How can people suggest about a thousand ways to clean the floor? I only need one but there are too many options. Since I have too much time in my hand, I experience one way per day I didn’t know that people use vinegar to clean the house. It is supposed to be healthier than using bleach. It is a good idea. I can’t stand the smell of bleach. Too much chemical! I should do that then. Even though this is not my house but I should at least protect the health for myself and my master.

I need to consider my thought of being a maid because my OCD is a real big problem. I have a thousand things to do inside the house but I can’t let a tiny dirt slide. Even one little scum can annoy the crap out of me and I would stand in one spot for an hour to clean it. Very frustrating!

Just like today, my master is sitting on the couch reading some magazine, probably some news about himself. He is super self-centric that the only news that can attract his attention is the one about him and his band. He can sit there and stare at his own picture for an hour then complain about the minor problems in the picture like how his skin is too bright, how his smile is too crooked, how his hair is too pointy.

He always disrupts my work and makes me look at the picture and I swear to God it is perfect. He looked like 10 times more handsome in the picture. The photo editor must spend great amount of time to take care of his picture. I often tell him to stop looking for the problems but he never listens. He always looks more problems then calls his manager and asks him to make the complaint to the magazine. I’m surprised that people still want to work for a weirdo like him. And yes, I am also surprised about myself that I am still working for him. I should have run away from the first day. Maybe this is a terrible mistake.

Sighing

Anyway, back to today, I am cleaning the kitchen while he is reading the magazine. He has been sitting there since the morning and so do I. I have been staying in one spot for a few hours because I couldn’t get the water scum off the sink. I thought he was concentrated on the magazine but it seems like he did steal some glance at me.

“What are you doing?” – He putted down the magazine, frustrated.

“Are you blind? Don’t you see I am cleaning the sink?” – I responded, with edge.

“I see you are cleaning and I see you have been doing it since the morning until now. Why are you still cleaning it?” – He frowns.

“Because this scum doesn’t want to come off.” – I state, irritated.

He stands up from the couch, walks to me. Then he suddenly stands right behind me, so close that I can feel his breath on my neck, his body heat on my back.

He was warm but I was frozen like ice, couldn’t move even an inch. Just what on earth that guy is doing again? And why I always lost control over my body when he stands close to me? It never happened to me before. This guy probably put some kind of evil spell on me. He is too dangerous.

Like it is not enough that he stands close to me, he also puts his hand over mine, the one that holding the rag. Then he moves my hand with his hand and I let him. I don’t resist, like a dummy, letting him freely control my movement.

“That’s how you clean the scum. It is perfect now ,right?” – He whispers in my ear, making my body shudder, my heart skip about 10 beats in a nanosecond. My knees are light as cotton candy and I am about to fall on the floor.

Why did he have to whisper when he tried to teach me something? He should give a command, strong and scary so I can remember. Why did he talk to me like he wanted to eat my ear up?

This guy is ert, a real ert.

I can’t stand him anymore.

“Yah, do you even know what personal space mean? You are trespassing my comfort zone.” – I push him away and yell.

He steps closer to me again, this time my face is facing his. He lays his hand on my face, with his thump presses lightly on my jaw and the rest of the fingers on my cheek. He pulls my face closer to him. “Don’t you feel comfortable when you are close to me?” – He says, breathy.

OMG, this guy seriously drives me crazy. How does he even have the gut to ask that question? He is totally shameless. Who does he think he is? Some kind of God that spread comfort to human? “No you are not you idiot. I am totally not comfortable when you are close to me. My heart beats too fast. My nerve is cracking. My breath is about to run out. Nothing about that is comfortable. It is like I am having a sickness. A fatal kind of illness, you idiot” was what I am screaming in my head.

 And what with the way he looks at me? His eyes were so wet, like a deep ocean that inviting me to dive in.

Oh no master. I already sunk once in a Caribbean ocean eyes. I am not going to falling for another ocean like kind of eyes. He is definitely player in blood. Normal girl probably already fall into his arm and begging him for his kiss but I am no ordinary girl. I have enough of playboy and I will never fall for another one.

I quickly grab his hand and push it away from my face. I shove him about 1 meter from my original spot. “Stand here” – I demand. Then I walk back to my spot. – “From now on keep this much distance from me ok? This is what people call personal space.”  I say, sighing the 1 meter radius around me.

He tilts his head, narrows his eyes, looking at me. – “This is my house; I will stand wherever I want.” – He haughtily states. My blood is boiling from his arrogant attitude. No one ever dared to talk like that to me before. I am about to grab his hair and teach him a lesson but before I can say anything, he already walks away. – “By the way.” – He stops midway on the stair – “Make something good for dinner. My best friend is coming over for tonight.” – He states.

“Is it a man or woman?” – I put my anger aside and ask.

“Is it matter?” – He frowns.

“Of course it does so I can know how to decorate the table.” – I states.

 I am very serious about table decorating. I believe a good table setting plays a big part in a good meal. I even took a whole course about it. Yes, they do teach that in America, for people with too much time like me. Whenever my father invited guests over, I always personally inspected the table decoration before the meal. If I find a slightest problem, I would order them to redecorate the whole thing. I am very particular about that.

“It is a guy. He is my best friend so don’t embarrass me.” – He says then walks to his room.

I am surprised hearing that he has a best friend. Are there really people that can tolerate his weirdness? That person is probably as weird as him.

Great, now I have to handle two weirdos. I am not looking forward for tonight at all.