Damn....

I just found out that the person I used to have come and clean my apartment died yesterday.

It's a very strange thing to consider -- in one sense, we were very close. She saw my stuff. She cleaned my toilet. And she was always willing to go out of her way to give me a hand or see me out of a tough spot when I needed it.

In another, there was a remove. She was someone who I liked, but who worked for me. Despite several admonitions, she always called me "Mister Burns," never "Eric."

I liked her a great deal. So did my cat, who got almost as excited when she would come over as when I came home. To my cat, there was no question of work relationship -- she was just part of the family.

Or had been. I only had her come over when I needed serious spit-shining of things. The last time I had her come was to get things looking as good as possible before Wednesday's visit. I certainly intended to do the same before the next time Wednesday came.

Now, I find myself wishing I'd taken her out for coffee or something. Just to thank her.

It's all very strange, to me.