A Higher Purpose...

It's a foggy Tuesday morning, which means it's the day our flat's are serviced (not because it's foggy, because it's Tuesday. Silly) and left smelling like the lemony finger bowls you are given in Chinese restaurants.

The cleaning company our particular Land Baron uses' name always strikes me as odd, so I snuck out in my jim-jams and dressing gown, whilst they were away from their van to get this piccle, to show you.

Higher Purpose Cleaning - for me, anyway - has a strange, culty religious undertone to it, as though they are serving a Higher Purpose by smearing lemon fresh Jif over anything that stands still for long enough. I tend not to leave the flat when they are here, in case they try to convert me.

I always imagine them speaking to each other in tongues and polishing the bannisters with eyes rolled up in their head and a beatific smile on their face as they go...

No, just me? Fair enough.

Thanks for gawping.

x