Blue Hour

On the floor

We are too busy mopping the floor to turn off the faucet. - Latin proverb

***********************************************************************************************

I admit it: I do have a problem with asking for help... or just getting help in general.

But hey I am doing just fine - in general, mostly, hardly. 

Stupid, stubborn me.

Ignoring my negative thoughts, I focused on the task at hand: Cleaning a trillion squaremeters of super elegant hardwood floor. 

Sighing I put on my headphones to have motivational music pumping through my ears.

Who decided to build a sport studio and put wooden floor everywhere? 

EVERYWHERE!

I mean no complaints from me for the beautiful design, but wow was it an effort to keep it clean every night. 

The part I enjoyed was the pine and rosemary smell of the fancy, for sure unnecessarily expansive, cleaning soap. Making the whole studio smell as if you walked through a forest in southern Europe.

Well, I assume that is what it would smell like. Not that I have had ever been there.

Being "blessed" with grandparents an ocean away, I should at least have gotten some in a nice and warm area! Shouldn't I? No luck there, I got some poor folks in the middle of nowhere in rainy ol' England. And even there I have had only been twice when I was little.

Have I mentioned that I am a bit of a thinker? Like in thinking all the time way too much. 

Especially, when my brain has nothing to do apart from estimating how long I still needed to be mopping. Approximately 55minutes if you insist to know. 

During my work time my head could come up with the base for a novel or invent a new start-up or solve some essential world crisis – You guessed correct of course always theoretical and with no real result at all. 

Or like today, talk to myself stroke for stroke. And the next one and on and on.

...

"Charlie are you done in the bench area?" I heard a muffled voice through my headphones.

Pulling them from one ear, I turned around and found my Barbie-like colleague and partner in crime for the night shifts glancing around the corner. The infamous I-am-a-walking-fantasy-on-endless-legs Isabella McAllister.

"Almost Bee."

"Finish up, I have found the best left-overs ever! There is a full plate of delicious chicken and heaps of fruits waiting for you. Must have been a really slow day today." she grinned enthusiastically.

"I will be there in 10." I grinned back and picked up my speed. 

My stomach was more than eager to get its first good meal of the day. At almost midnight.

Packing up, I quickly dumped the cleaning water and washed my hands in the service area. 

The delicious smell of the chicken greeted me as soon as I opened the door to the employee break room.

"I put it in the microwave and god it smells so good." chipped Bee while she whisked dishes to our favourite table in the back corner.

Though the room was big and nicely furnished it was still a bit gloomy without windows. They were all used for the customer spaces and the service rooms where put in the middle of the floor.