I nearly posted a hysterical tantrum rant about all the things that don't work/are crappy in my house that I'm sick of, but now that I'm not hoovering anymore, the childish resentment has faded so I'll spare you, and just say this:
Universe, I am ready to get a job that pays me enough to live on properly.
I don't know why hoovering fills me with red rage, it virtually always does. Maybe the hoover-noise frequency is the same as the one the anger-centre of my brain vibrates on.
I'm feeling sick, sore throat, maybe headachey. I hope it doesn't develop. I'm fed up with symptoms.
Tomorrow I go test out Pablo Piquante! Woo!
scared to look at bank account in case all this month's money is already spent and I can't afford a burritto* - this is how I budget. Effective, non?
I will report back soon anyway, re authenticity/tastiness quotient. Not quotient. Can't think of words at the moment. I had great hopes that finishing breastfeeding would mean the return of my thinking faculties, but strangely, that doesn't seem to have happened.
Universe, I am ready to get a job that pays me enough to live on properly.
I don't know why hoovering fills me with red rage, it virtually always does. Maybe the hoover-noise frequency is the same as the one the anger-centre of my brain vibrates on.
I'm feeling sick, sore throat, maybe headachey. I hope it doesn't develop. I'm fed up with symptoms.
Tomorrow I go test out Pablo Piquante! Woo!
scared to look at bank account in case all this month's money is already spent and I can't afford a burritto* - this is how I budget. Effective, non?
I will report back soon anyway, re authenticity/tastiness quotient. Not quotient. Can't think of words at the moment. I had great hopes that finishing breastfeeding would mean the return of my thinking faculties, but strangely, that doesn't seem to have happened.
8 comments:
hoovering is one of my fetishes. I equate hoovering with....let me think...Zen & The Art of Hoovering.
seriously. I love it.
What's Pablo Piquante?
Would you like to come over? Perhaps bring your sucky friend?
We got all the hoovering you could ask for!
Pablo Piquante is a new(ish) TexMex place in Dublin, which might (might!) satisfy my deep, desperate desire for a real American burrito experience at home.
If I had a brand new Dyson instead of an ancient old one, then perhaps my hoovering experience would be more Zen. Anything I didn't have to hand feed the dirt to the hoover would make me happier, basically.
I just reread that Pablo Piquante sentence, and it does sound like I've made an appointment with a Mexican gigolo if you don't know it's a restaurant...
You know my poem don't you?
Vacuum cleaners really suck.
They make me say bad words like "fuck."
I don't vacuum or Hoover as you guys call it. I sweep. Much more pleasant activity.
I don't mind sweeping so much, no, but I find the end bit with the dustpan action unsatisfying and frustrating too.
I need for absolutely everything in my house to be out in the lane, so I can clean, paint and sort it (and magically create storage space solutions where there are none, and then only put back in what I want.
However, if I atually was able to do this, the fear of the magnitude of the task would make me faint.
I'm not entirely against hoovering or ironing.
I think it's drying up that offends me the most as it's most pointless. They'll dry themselves damnit.
I generally wipe things down quite badly too, they tend to still look dirty afterwards...
Oh, I love Ms Moon's poem!
I don't know why hoovering fills me with red rage, it virtually always does. Same here, Jo. It just triggers all the churny bitter anger in me at the world in general - I go through hours of imagined rants while vacuuming. Weird.
Although, the fact that I had the world's most evil vacuum cleaner didn't help. I've never had a domenstic appliance reduce me to tears of rage before. It was a Vax, and a present, and I broke it trying to wrestle/hammer the fecking mini-head off the fecking nozzle, so I couldn't even take it back.
To my great joy, the builders' dust killed it and I had to buy a Dyson instead.
Ah but you can't sweep a carpet, can you? I make my cleaner hoover. (Sorry.) And before that my husband or child - anyone just so I wouldn't have to.
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