Helena and the Promotion

Miraculously, Helena e-mails asking when I can come in again to clean the hallway and if I can do a big job for her before the 1st of the month when a new tenant is moving in. She offers $100. I just got a promotion for shitting on her floor. Maybe she’s just unable to hire anyone else since I inadvertently marked my territory.
The apartment I clean takes up the entire 1st floor of her building. It is the apartment of my dreams literally. Since living in NY I’ve had various dreams where my small apartment has a secret door opening to a giant room or numerous giant rooms. One opened to a skate board park that was my real bedroom, another to a magical garden, another just a huge open, empty room with great floor to ceiling windows, all open spaces too grand to know what to do with. This apartment was like that, mind blowing. There are three entrances. The first entrance leads to huge bedroom with two floor to ceiling windows and a walk in closet. There’s another bedroom next to it, then a frosted door leading to an open living room with a fire place and tall ceilings, a foyer, bathroom donning a bidet (toilet and bidet combo- Amazon), a dining room, full kitchen and then a separate little nook. The whole apartment has modern coral and sparkly black marble tile floors that contrast well with the gothic romantic look of the tall ceilings and the paisley moldings that line the starch white walls, plus the country kitchen with the fold out window just above the sink. When I think I’ve seen it all I step outside to a real magical garden, two floors of exotic plants galore, garden hoses, spiral staircases, great blooming colorful tropical flowers. I nearly passed out right there, but amidst my fainting two little yuppies younger than me walk in directing movers on where to put their couch. How do they afford this place and why aren’t I friends with them? I’m humiliated.
The cleaning is pretty standard, fantasizing about how I could squat there and make it my own home, me hoping I’ll work fast without distraction so I can go home soon, and me getting distracted by a foreign object. It is one of the few times in my life I’d seen a bidet. I have to look the name up on my phone’s web browser. I type in “thing that cleans your ass after you shit.” Some quote from Fight Club comes up first. Then I try “toilet” and a link for a toilet and bidet combo on Amazon pops up. Bidet. Bidet. Bidet. I could use a bidet, but isn’t it gross to share that with others. I become curious, lean in close over the bowl and give the knob a turn. A burst of water explodes straight up like a geyser in to my right eyeball. I’m a little freaked out, but so far no sign of eye coli.
I’m not superstitious, but two bad luck things happen to me on this cleaning. First I’m cleaning the kitchen sink, looking out the cute country window, and a black cat jumps over the fence right in front of me. An all black cat. Also, I have a tall ladder to clean fans, light fixtures and cabinets. I have it squeezed so tight in the kitchen that I have to walk under it to get the mop that is on the other side of the room. And finally comes the time to handle the heavy awkward mirror that the previous tenant left behind. I see why. It’s heavy, awkwardly shaped, and hard to carry. I am sure I am going to drop it, sealing my bad luck karma of the day, but I don’t drop it. I spend the rest of the day waiting for something evil to happen to me, but it doesn’t. Nothing good, nothing bad. Nothing. I am still waiting for something to fill the nothingness. After work I go to Spanish class and have a good time. I go home and have a nice night with Nathanial, go to bed early, and that’s it!