Well, it's no surprise that the vacuuming didn't get done until today, but what an excellent effort was made when I finally did it. I must have been going for two hours solid. I even vacuumed the front porch and the outside of the front door screen and all of the cournices in the house.
One of the thoughts that I often ponder, particularly on two hour vacumming benders, is about the poor little spiders (Jac, if you're reading this, you may want to stop here and read no further). We have a lot of Daddy Long Legs here, rarely found upstairs, but oh, how they love the cornices downstairs. I don't like to spray them for many reasons, none the least being that they tend to stay there as a constant reminder of my crimes. My solution is generally to vacuum them up.
But, when doing this, I often wonder how this seems to the spiders themselves. I do like to think that they find the trip through the ducted vacuuming system something like a roller coaster ride at the spider equivalent of a theme park.
A somewhat less comforting thought is that they do, in fact, meet their makers through a quick and painless demise.
A significantly more disconcerting thought is that they survive the ordeal, shaken and rather pissed and that they are gathering numbers in the vacuum chamber ready to decend upon the sorry bastards who forcefully removed them from their peaceful existence and that they will lie in wait until they are ready to extract an evil but thoroughly deserved revenge on the perpetrator - namely, me!
This is why I am clearly not suited to tasks that occupy my body but not my mind and why I should do my best to avoid housework of any kind. Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.