A Clean House is a Sign of a Wasted Life

I saw a woman on t.v., not an actor, who vacuumed her house three times a day.  Three times a day, every day.  It took me so long to wrap my head around that, I almost missed the part about how she wouldn’t let anyone, friend or foe, wear shoes inside her house.  They didn’t have any pets.  You have to wonder WTF she thought she was vacuuming up.

The vacuuming was only one aspect of her obsession with excessive cleanliness.  Cleaning, and terrorizing her family over it, was pretty much all she did.  She was very, very proud of her sterile environment. Me, I’m thinking this is not an accomplishment, it’s a freakin’ mental illness!  Her taxi came and was out in the street honking for her and she freaked out and had to vacuum one last time before she left.  While the taxi was in the driveway.  At the risk of missing her flight.

There she was, compulsively wearing out her carpet, day after day.  I wonder what kind of vacuum she uses and how often she has to replace it.  Once I got over my total disbelief that someone would spend her life like that, I just thought it was sad.  Nobody at the end of her life, on her deathbed, ever looks back and says, “Damn, I wish I had vacuumed more often.”

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