Cleaning for Strangers

There's nothing like it, is there? Tomorrow I'm supposed to give notice to my landlord, at which point an endless range of people from Craig's List will be trooping through my apartment. I know, huh? Kind of unsavory, if you ask me. Plus, if my parents were coming, I'd be done in about an hour (I have laundry all over the floor, and we're a washer down here, so that's gonna take a while, but other than that I'm surface-cleaning away from finishing--dusting, vacuuming, and running a mop around).

But my parents aren't going to steal anything that's not nailed down. Now, granted, I've gone on Craig's List. I've even had one date off Craig's List. (It was kind of fun, and, against all odds, totally safe. It consisted of Indian food and too-frank conversation, which, not surprisingly, killed any further interest we might have had in one another. But I had a good time.) Not every human trolling Craig's List is a kleptomaniac. But let's face it, if you're going to let a bunch of them into your apartment, even under supervision, you'd better stash your small portable electronics and any jewelry you care about.

Plus you have to remove any indications that you're a human. I'll leave that up to your imagination for the most part, but I live alone. There's a bra on the back of my sofa that's been there since one night last week when I was too tired to move and too uncomfortable to keep wearing it. It's a cute one, too. See, I feel that sends the wrong message to a prospective tenant....