So hard to find good help these days, right? Thursday, I embark into the land of the hiring the help that I shouldn't need to run my house. I am in disbelief that for ANY amount of money someone should want to clean this house, since I obviously don't. I won't believe it until I see it; until I see the tub brilliantly scrubbed at the same time as the kitchen immaculate, at the same time as the house vacuumed, AT THE SAME TIME AS the laundry done and put away. I feel a twinge of guilt that I am supposed to feel, afterall, my career is my home. But of all the jobs, cook, maid, governess, nanny, manager and chauffeur, scrubbing pots and baseboards is the one I like the least. So, bring in the ladies of the day and let me play with my babies. One could get used to having other people doing one's work. The secret to my success? Move into a tiny, crappy little half of a house and live like a king. But you don't have to take my word for it.