maid in the am

4.

I am literally having a dream. I really am sleeping right now. I'm going to wake up any moment. Only, I am awake. I'm not dreaming. How am I not dreaming?! This is literally the home of THE Niall Horan. From One Direction. This has to be some kind of sick joke, someone is screwing with me. There's no fucking way. I have to get out of here, I can't do this! What if he sees me?! I'll literally have a heart attack. I have loved One Direction for years now, they have been the only thing that has kept me going through my struggles. And now I'm standing in the middle of Niall fucking Horan's house. I can't believe this. What am I gonna do? I sit on the giant gray sofa and sink all the way back, stroking the furry throw blanket trying to calm myself down. Who am I gonna tell? Wait, I can't tell anyone. I can't even talk to him! Oh my god, this makes perfect sense, I finally get into a situation to meet my idol and I'm not allowed to even speak to him unless it's to ask if he wants something cleaned! Of course! This is why I hate surprises, I'm always left disappointed with a bitter taste in my mouth. So, this really is some cruel joke from the universe. That's fine, again, I wasn't expecting anything anyway. So what if I have loved my boss for 8 years and he doesn't know I exist and I can't talk to him. I mean he's probably not the same in person anyway. I know that everything I think I know about him is just a media image, and he could be a total dick in real life. I would hope that's not the case, but it probably is. At least, I wouldn't be surprised. I just still can't believe I am in his living room. Oh god, I was in his bedroom too! I rifled through his clothes!  I'm just so dumbfounded that this is his house. And I'm not allowed to say anything, or tell anyone. That shouldn't be a problem though, I don't have any friends from here and my family hasn't spoken to me since I left. The excitement I feel is eating away at my insides though, and I can't just sit here and do nothing. I decide to go and change out of this stupid uniform. I only wore it because I wasn't sure if there was a dress code they wanted me to follow. Shit, I have to unload my car first, I realize half way to my room. I grab the keys from the front table and head towards the garage. Luckily for me, I only own one box of clothes, one box of shoes and purses, and a small box of possessions that I keep for sentimental reasons. I also have my makeup bag and hair tools together. I end up only having to make 3 trips before I can start unpacking and settling in. Every time I move I am forced to think about leaving home, how I grabbed just enough to make it on my own and left. This minimalistic style has kind of been who I am since. There's that, and also California is an expensive place to live and I couldn't really afford to expand my wardrobe very much. I pull out my clothes and hang some up nicely in the closet and place others in the drawers, then I arrange my shoes on the sturdy built-in shelves spanning the bottom half of the wall. I display my purses on a shelf, they are one of the only nice things I own. Most of them were gifts from my grandma, the only family member that I miss dearly. But then again I missed her when I was home too, she passed the year before I left. She was the only one who believed in me, and thought I could make my dream a reality. I realize I have gotten too wrapped up in my thoughts and have been sitting on the closet floor for too long. I decide not to even open the box of stuff that I only have because I can't bring myself to throw it away, and stash it in a drawer in the corner of the closet. I then grab my makeup and hair products and move to the bathroom. I organize my massive makeup collection in the drawers below the sink. I love makeup because I feel as though I can put on a new face and be different for a day, it's an art I use to express my emotions because I am not good at doing that through my words. I also just love to look pretty and it helps me be more confident. Once I've finished putting everything away, I go to change. I throw on my favorite little cotton athletic shorts and a soft cotton cropped tank top. Then, I decide I should probably go read the binder Halle gave me earlier more thoroughly.
I walk into the kitchen where I left the binder, and decide to make some coffee for myself. I like to drink some kind of hot beverage when I read usually. I brew it, grab some cream from the fridge, and then sit down to read my duties. Obviously Halle or someone had been doing these before I was hired because there were fresh groceries in the fridge and the house was clean. Then again, it's hard to have a messy house when no one lives in it. I start reading the cleaning tasks:
Mop the tile
No dishes should be out they should all be cleaned and put away as used
Wipe down countertops daily
Sweep all the wood weekly
Vacuum carpets weekly
Dust all awards and shelves in living room
Clean windows once a month or if smudging occurs
Clean all guest bathrooms before and after use by guests
Make sure the decorations on the coffee table are not disturbed (should be three magazines splayed out along with a few trinkets)
Wash the blankets on the couch once a month
Steam all curtains and linens that are out monthly
There are several more tasks, but Halle really wasn't joking. This is going to be more work than I thought. I don't mind though, I like to clean. I just lose myself in some music and get it done, it helps to clear my constantly over thinking brain. I skip ahead to the food page, but it's all mostly stuff I like to have and I can also get whatever I would like at the store as well. I then flip to the emergency procedure page. I read it carefully, and kind of freak myself out. I know how crazy Niall's fans can be, hell I've been one for years, but I really don't know how I would react if someone was trying to break in. I get a little too scared and decide I need to stop reading these "what if" scenarios. This house may be beautiful, but it sure is quiet and a little eery when you're alone. I get why he likes to travel and go on tour, it means less time on his own, less time to get inside his own head. This is something I'm becoming all too familiar with all too fast, so I decide to quickly grab a snack and go plop down on the couch. I didn't realize before in my panic how comfortable it is. The seat is so deep it puts you in an almost laying down position, but the back has enough support to keep you upright and totally comfortable. The material is soft against the bare skin of my legs and arms. I decide to grab the remote and turn on the television, just so it's not silent anymore. I settle on re-runs of The Office. It's one of my favorite shows, and never fails to make me feel better. I get a little chilly, and tell myself I need to remember how to adjust the AC, but for now I just grab the thick, furry blanket and let its material swallow me up. I watch the show, content in every way, and can't help but thinking to myself how this is the most at peace I've been in a long time. There is something about this house, this position, everything going on in my life right now, that just feels so right. It's been such a long day for me, and it's only 2 pm. But somewhere between episodes I start to doze off, slowing nodding my head more and more trying to fight my weariness, but ultimately surrender to the sweet bliss of sleep.