Here it is a brand new month and I’m chompin’ at the bit to get going on some activities I’ve been looking forward to – like organizing my sock drawer and harvesting my Swiss chard to find out if is is truly edible.
But neeeewww, dork that I am 50 percent of the time, I’m facing a day of sifting through my vacuum bag.
I cringe to think about the contents of that bag and I’ll probably be forced to wear a blindfold and plastic gloves. (I vaguely recall vacuuming a prehistoric roach that resembled a dinosaur embryo and the carcass of a Gecko.)
Why, you ask, am I having to spend a Friday on such a distasteful task? I hired a housekeeper this week and she accidentally threw away something valuable. No diamonds or anything like that, but she threw away a crown that fell out of my head last week.
My dentist said no problem, bring it in and he’ll nail it back in. I carefully laid it on top of the sugar canister so I could keep an eye on it at all times. Those things cost about $1000 these days, and holding on to this tiny crown for two weeks in my house would be a challenge.
But I live alone and Lucky Dawg and Rebel can’t jump high enough to get up on the kitchen cabinet. Enter Tammie who did a bang up job of cleaning up my house yesterday. She is a miracle worker and I paid her a little extra. Two hours later I went to check on my tooth.
Where the expletive was it? I went berserk, crawling on my hands and knees on the floor and then looking in every cabinet. Then, I remembered. She had cleaned out from under the microwave and around the coffee pot, sweeping unpopped kernels of popcorn and other detritus onto the floor. She then carefully swept it into a pile and swept up the big stuff, leaving the small stuff to be vacuumed up.
Hopefully the crown is still somewhere in the house. I’ll check the trash can first in hopes it is resting peacefully on the bottom. Then, I’ll grit my teeth and begin the arduous task of dumping out the vacuum bag and going through every little piece. Fun day, huh?