My cleaning saga began with a cosmic Kenmore Electrolux vacuum, courtesy of a smooth-talking salesman who convinced my mom to own one. Now armed with it’s "succulent power," and list of chores...I raked in a jaw-dropping $1.50 weekly. Not exactly car-buying money, but let's live in the fantasy, shall we?

At the ripe old age of ten, I scored my first legit cleaning gig at a zen-like health spot across from the old London Public Library on Queens. They dangled a dazzling $20 per month in front of my scrub-hungry eyes, and I dove head first into the mysteries of life, armed with a mop and determination. Spoiler alert: it usually took me a solid five hours to untangle those mysteries.

My precision cleaning skills got a military upgrade at the No.9 Army Cadet Corp, where I learned to iron and polish shoes so well that I was dubbed the maestro of "Drill, Dress, and Deportment." No, it's not a rock band, but it should be.

In my pre-teen superhero era, I fearlessly tackled the Herculean mission of chiseling cement off clay bricks at our Grosvenor Street fortress. And the grand prize for my epic efforts? None other than a solo voyage to witness the cinematic masterpiece, "ET: The Extra-Terrestrial," at the illustrious Capital Theatre. Move aside, Spielberg – turns out, cleaning isn't just a chore; it's an intergalactic adventure!

At 17, I jetted off to Toronto, cohabiting with my sprightly 89-year-old great-grandmother. From cooking to conquering the legendary Dominion Grocery Store in Etobicoke, I was the multitasking maven of daily college life. A cheeky "tear-away" cleaning ad in the laundry room turned me into a local sensation. Suddenly, I wasn't just cleaning for Nana; I had a fan club of elderly clients. Tea, sweets, and chitchats post-clean became my signature move. Multitasking, Nana-style – because cleaning is more fun with a side of wisdom and laughter.

After Nana's departure at 91 years of age, I returned to London, Ontario. I decided to dip my toes (and a mop) into the thrilling world of veterinary adventures at King’s Animal Clinic. My daily routine? Cleaning cages, charming animals, and giving post-surgery rooms a makeover. If you haven't tried your hand at cage-cleaning, you're missing out on life's wild side!

In my mid-20s, I jet-setted to Bretagne, France, where I became an Au Pair for a cardiac surgeon's and his three children. A mansion the size of a small country? Check. Driving stick shift in half an hour? Double-check. Roundabouts? Let's not even talk about it.

From the chilly North to the snowy South of France, I cared for the children of World Cup Ski Champion Patrice Pellat-Finnet. It turns out, cleaning is a universal language, even on the icy slopes of Mont Blanc.

Upon my returned back from France almost a year after my initial arrival there, I quickly took a position with SCS Southwest Disaster Restoration Clean Up. It was at this job that meticulous cleaning was not a marginalized achievement ....it was the standard.

Thanks for taking the time to read this, and ...

Thanks for your interest in The Cleaning Refinery.

Connoisseur In The-Art-of-Cleaning

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