Day 4

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The cupboards and drawers are all completely clean. Every corner of the apartment—except my room—is dusted. He cleaned the windows and the glass on the framed posters and even swept the balcony. He swept the balcony, for god's sake! I've never even thought about doing that! Dude is showing me up!

He was all proud, again, while we made dinner. But he had fewer things to talk about than yesterday. The apartment looks really damn good, and aside from buying things to improve the decor, there's nothing else to be done. I think Brad realized that. We ate and watched TV and he said, "Well... what are you doing tomorrow?"

I stuttered out something dumb about my next deadline coming up.

He asked, "Are you doing any video calls or anything?"

I asked why he wanted to know.

"Oh, well, I just wonder if I could vacuum for you, or dust, or grab your bedding to wash it. If that's too invasive, I totally understand, but if there's anything you need done in there, I'll do it."

I said yes. I said yes. I wasn't thinking about my own boundaries or privacy or anything. I was just thinking of how I could help him stay busy. Now that I'm lying in bed, worrying that there's something in here I might now want him to see. It's not like I have sex toys or anything (not out in the open, anyway...), but he's never been in here. I barely know him. The idea of sitting here while he's dusting my bookcase and vacuuming and stripping my bed is so awkward.

Maybe I could just dump my bedding outside the door? That way he wouldn't have to come in here? But that's so rude—he's not my maid. I mean, he's acting like my maid. He seems to want to be my maid. He even said, tonight, "Maybe I should switch occupations!"

He laughed, talked about how much he kind of liked it. Said cleaning was oddly soothing. He may be crazy. I don't know.

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