I have hated cleaning bathrooms since I was little. Growing up that was one of my Saturday chores. Dad decided that as oldest daughter I was to help Mom by doing dishes every evening, iron all the clothes (for a family of seven) and clean the bathrooms. A full bath upstairs and a 3/4 bath on the main floor. I hated it. I would have rather done outdoor chores, but that was 'mans work' and my older brother was responsible for that. Hated, hated, hated cleaning the bathrooms and would dawdle all morning until hollered at to get it done. That and ironing. Awk! If I see one more laundry basket of stuff to Iron...well, that moves into another story.
So here, when I saw my green & burgandy bath, I was happy. And a soaker tub! with slanted backrest. Man, it was like heaven! And cleaning is a breeze! Just remove all towels and tissues and then I just turn the shower hose on the whole room. Dust is everywhere and as soon as I clean, there's more dust to come. But give me a half hour on the weekend and I've hosed down the bathroom top to bottom, squeegied the puddles and wipe the sink and mirror. Done!
But then this morning I felt a quick tingle as I'm wiping the mirror. Yup, I've made a connection and water on the over-the-sink mirror light zapped the hell out of me.
I quit. -- and I need a houseboy to clean my bath.
