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It took Dr B. two and a half years to convince me to get a cleaner. Two and a half very long years during which I insisted that:

• the flat is small, there's two of us, it should not be necessary to find help
• the flat is uncluttered and quick to clean
• I could not afford it

So Dr B. suggested he paid for the cleaner himself, provided that I carry on doing all the chores I have been regularly doing on my own anyway, such as

• do the laundry
• fold and put away clothes
• load/unload the dishwasher
• shop for groceries and cleaning products
• tidy up and generally put stuff away

while he makes an effort to limit his dust footprint as much as he can.

The cleaner started last Friday, and apart from a couple of misunderstandings (she ironed one of my t-shirts, which goes against one of my core beliefs, and forgot to set the alarm on the way out) we are over the moon with her.

So now I've got a recurrent task in Remember The Milk to remind me to tidy up, wash Dr B.'s shirts and generally ensure that everything is ready for Super Stella to spread her magic on our abode every Friday.

We love it. And I am grateful I have got a very fair deal.