Tuesday, October 26, 2010

day 2 : vacuum cleaners

It's midterms time at the U of C, and in spite of that, I found myself spending part of my lunchtime buzzing my faithful Dirt Devil around my bedroom and bathroom. I probably should've been studying, or working, or starting that biochem problem set that's due on Friday, but I felt an overwhelming need to remove offensive debris from my environment. We're known for quirkiness at this school, and while my clean fetish probably doesn't qualify quite as quirky, I think my love of vacuum cleaners could probably take me a long way. Yar, stranger. Vacuum cleaners.

If Dirt Devil were a god, I think I would worship him. Or her. There's something wonderfully familiar and comforting about the bright red plastic and high-pitched whine of a Dirt Devil that brings my back to the dust bunnies on the stairs of my childhood home. Before I foisted the chore off onto my little brother, I used to fret over the little fuzzies that got stuck in the corners. I hated that our stairs didn't sit on top of each other in 90˚ blocks; I'd have to run the vacuum over carpeted riser at an angle to make sure everything was dust-free, but I loved how pristine our white carpet would look afterwards. I could even feel the cleanliness under my bare feet.

Remember those UltraShark commercials on TV? I fell in love. The UltraShark was definitely at the top of my Christmas list that year. I was definitely superhappy when I got it. I definitely used it the next day.

When I got to college, a working vacuum was a luxury. First and second year, vacuums were a premium I had to go to the front desk to ask for, and even then, they weren't guaranteed to work. Usually one of the wheels was missing. At the end of the year, I had to prowl my thinly carpeted floor with masking tape to get rid of all the hair that had accumulated there. Gross and gross.

Life is better now that I have my own apartment. For one thing, I'm a proud owner of the Dirt Devil Versa - one of those lightweight convertible vacuums that's perfect for hardwood floors and hard-to-reach corners (don't I sound like an advertisement?), and I use it religiously. Is there really anything worse than gaggles of hair on a hardwood floor? I think not. Sometimes I think I must be going bald from the amount of hair I find on the floor. This, I'm sure, is not a unique experience.

Anyways. Back to work.

Aside: I used to worry that I had obsessive compulsive tendencies. After taking this quiz, I decided I had nothing to worry about. Take one question it asks:

Have you worried about acting on an unwanted and senseless urge or impulse, such as:
  1. Physically harming a loved one, pushing a stranger in front of a bus, steering your car into oncoming traffic; inappropriate sexual contact; or poisoning dinner guests?
In fact, no...I have not.

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