There’s a question I’ve been asked more than once: “What’s the worst client you’ve ever had?”
The assumption is always the same—that I have a mental list of nightmare clients I rant about when I get home, or that I mentally rank homes by how unpleasant they are to clean.
But here’s the thing: I don’t think that way. And I really don’t want to.
When I walk into a house, I’m not measuring how gross it is. I’m not comparing it to a highlight reel of past horror stories. I’m looking at what needs to be done. There’s tile that needs scrubbing. A fridge that hasn’t seen daylight in a while. A room with cobwebs hanging like ghost streamers. That’s it. Tasks. Steps. A to-do list. Not a judgment.
The human brain loves to categorize things—worst, easiest, most annoying, best smelling (okay, maybe I have that one). But when we talk about homes, especially messy ones, it’s important to remember the house is not the person.
Messy doesn’t mean lazy. Cluttered doesn’t mean careless. And overwhelmed doesn’t mean hopeless.
A lot of clients are just surviving. Sometimes, it’s depression. Sometimes, it’s grief. Sometimes, it’s a full-time job, a toddler, and zero help. And sometimes… it’s just been a long time since they had a moment to breathe.
You know what I see when I walk into a “bad” house? Opportunity.
I see a sink that, once polished, will make someone feel like they’re getting a fresh start. I see a hallway that will feel less claustrophobic once the clutter’s out. I see a human being who had to ask for help—which takes guts.
I don’t rank clients. I plan around tasks. Is this job going to take four hours or eight? Will I need the heavy-duty degreaser or just my microfiber miracle cloths? Can I do this alone or should I bring backup? That’s how I think. Because that’s what matters.
If I ever say a house was “tough,” I’m not talking about the client. I’m talking about the dried mystery goop on the baseboards or the two hours I spent wrestling a shower door that had fused with the mineral world.
Clients aren’t bad. They’re human. And humans live messy lives.
I don’t judge that. I’m honored to be invited into it—to help, to reset, to quietly make the chaos feel a little more manageable.
So no, I don’t have a “worst client.” But I do have a favorite sound. It’s the deep breath a client takes when they walk in and say, “Wow… it feels like I can breathe again.”
That’s the only ranking I care about.