My Vacuum Cleaner

My vacuum cleaner is supposed to live in a closet, upstairs, far removed from daily view. But, since I am always “about” to use it, it stays in the living room, or the foyer, or somewhere else convenient, tucked into a corner. One peek at the amount of goo on the carpets and you can tell that I have been about to vacuum for about a month.

I have decided that perhaps I should paint the vacuum cleaner to match the décor, and that it should double as something useful. (After all, it’s not doing much vacuuming.) Perhaps it could serve as a coat rack, or an umbrella stand, or maybe it could hold the fireplace tools. That would be appropriate, because the fireplace tools are there just to give the impression that we work on having a fire. We have gas logs that Mighty MO refuses to turn on, because gas is so expensive. So the unused vacuum could double as a stand for the unused fireplace tools next to the unused fireplace. This might just work.

Along with the unused vacuum, I have unused dust rags, scrub brushes, brooms and feather duster thingys. If I hold onto all this long enough, maybe it will be worth something. In about 100 years, this collection will be called “archives”.

In some miraculous time, long, long ago, I had a maid. A wonderful maid. She would come spend a whole day at my house. I’d walk in from work to smells that would knock my socks off. The whole house smelled like lemons, and fresh laundry. It looked sparkly clean, and it really was. Even the crevices were clean. Wonder maid washed clothes and started dinner. Those were the days. Best of all, there was the wonderful satisfaction of knowing someone could stop by, and I would not be embarrassed to let them in. But, no one ever stopped by when the house was clean. If someone stopped by, it was on the day just maid came. It was the perfect snooty excuse for a messy house.

I am full of excuses as to why my house resembles a demolition site. Someday, PC (post children) I will really clean it. For now, I must go. I am about to vacuum.