Blogger and Vacuums

I don't know why Blogger tries to keep me out sometimes, but it drives me crazy. It took 4 attempts with a mini break visiting other blogs for the past half hour before it would finally let me create a post. Are they trying to tell me something?

Oh well, I finally got in so that's all that matters.

It's been a very quiet weekend. I turned down five opportunities to do fun things this weekend in order to nurse my cold. What an idiot. I still have the cold the same as I would had I gone out and tried to enjoy myself, so what did I gain by staying in and behaving myself? Nothing.

I did get the opportunity to finally watch Monsters Inc. I LOVED that movie. I'm not really worried that I became deeply engrossed in a childs cartoon movie to the point of yelling "oh ohhhh" when the monster grabbed the little girl, but my mom is.

I'm sure I caught a glimpse of Psychiatrist's listings on the monitor when she thought I wasn't looking.

Speaking of dear old mother, she has managed to curse my new vacuum cleaner. For years when I lived alone, I was able to vacuum happily as often as I liked without it ever falling apart. Whenever I've lived with my mother, vacuums frequently break down requiring new belts. I don't know what she does to them. I'm bordering on being pissed and amused.

Just after she moved back in with me, I went out and bought a brand new vacuum cleaner. She managed to turn the old one into a piece of shit when she lived with me before and I couldn't stand it anymore, so I sprung for a new Hoover Upright, Bagless model.

It was working like a charm. So bloody powerful, I swear it could eat my whole livingroom carpet if I let it. I told her to be careful with it. Instructed her on how to empty the canister and how to watch that it didn't overflow. I left the instructions on the coffee table so that she could read them at her leisure and only put them away after several weeks.

I told her how we never had any problems with our vacuum cleaner for the entire year that she didn't live with us. She just glared at me and made a comment about the vacuum certainly would never break if you never use it. I ignored that comment. I did use it, but I'm careful with my toys, I mean my appliances.

Anyway, my attention had been drawn to the paleness of our normally lush green carpet the other day and I realized, the fading was actually a layer of white cat hair and possibly dust. I mentally noted to myself that the vacuuming was long overdue and decided I would take care of it after breakfast.

My mother can read minds and so before I actually finished my breakfast, she broached the subject by asking me where the instructions to the vacuum were. I told her I didn't know. We then got into an argument about me supposedly telling her they were in the bottom drawer in the kitchen with other manuals, in the other apartment, but when she went to pack that drawer it was empty. First of all, if it was empty, that meant that I had already packed the drawer. Secondly, we moved in here on October 1st. We've been vacuuming happily since then, so why are we arguing about where I put the manual when we were living in the other apartment?

It's her diversionary tactic. She was trying to put me on the defensive about losing the manual, so that I could be blamed for her sucking up my sock and breaking the bloody belt. Apparently, it was my sock that broke the belt, so in other words it was my fault.

She had not told me about this when it happened because she knew that I would be friggin angry at my new vacuum breaking down because of her misuse or her cloud of negativity or whatever else it is that follows her around breaking vacuums needlessly whenever she is in their vicinity.

She was right. I was angry. I was angry for about 2 minutes and then decided I have more important things to do then to waste energy whining about a fucking vacuum cleaner belt.

I went to the store and bought a new one. If you want a hot tip, here's one. Buy some stock in Hoover vacuum cleaner belts. You won't go wrong. Sure to be on the rise now that I own a Hoover.