Honest, I’m not out of ideas. I just needed to wash the filters on my Dyson. Washable filters sound like such a great idea, but they need 24 hours to dry, which means my ‘cuum is out of commission until tomorrow at 3:01 pm.
Shit. It’s only been 15 minutes since I cleaned the filters, and I feel a desperate need to vacuum. I spied the glitter Jesse spilled in the basement, and a thousand dried play doh crumbs are all over the carpet in the same region.
If the Dyson were functional, I’d be ignoring the glitter and play doh brazenly. I’d walk right by it and think things like, “huh, I should probably do something about that.” On tough days I might stop to stare dumbly for a second, and then continue on while reassuring myself that I DID remember to restock the liquor cupboard. That sort of procrastination can go on for weeks in my world.
But now I’ll be thinking constantly about that mess, and waiting for the chance to suck it up, for the next 23-and-a-quarter hours.
Ain’t that the truth. It’s like when I pick up a top at Macy’s and think, “Oh, it’s kind of cute…” and then I discover that they don’t have it in my size, and suddenly I MUST HAVE IT.