20 January 2006
Originally posted on greenfairydotcom
Now that Germaine has walked out of the Big Brother house, I have left my bed and am carrying on with everyday life. Not so precipitously that the nice fellow delivering my new vacuum cleaner wasn't able to admire my frilly pink chemise* for a full three minutes whilst fumbling for a pen, however; these transitions are tricky and likely to induce vertigo if rushed.
The old one had given up sucking, you see - not unlike the ex from whom it was wrested when we divided up the household chattels in the spring of last year.** I do not do household appliances***, but realising that something was needed to stem the tide of red glitter appearing**** all over my house, I bit the bullet and clicked 'add to my basket' next to the one that wouldn't cost me too much in Mini Rolls and stockings this month. Turns out that it's also red and glittery, which may be marvellous or which may be some giant cosmic joke that I haven't as yet found anyone to swear at for.
I unpack the box, wishing I had a cigarette holder and a divorce so I could feel like a proper lady of the house. The pamphlet tells me I should have a crevice attachment. I do not. I have a small fuzzy one for upholstery instead. Ponder this briefly before noting that all my crevices recieve regular airings and therefore special device not needed anyway. Play with the automatic cable rewind for a bit, giggling, until the plug smashes into my ankle.
Have doughnut, sprinkling sugar liberally over kitchen floor in order to test suck of new hoover. Marvellous. Have second and third doughnuts, just to make sure. Still splendid. Try to remove flat bit from floor but cannot; suck too powerful. Try to wrench it up and it eats two thirds of nightie, sticking itself to backside leaving round red mark which is going to prove very difficult to explain away*****. Turn off power and extract clothing. Place vacuum into space recently vacated by dead machine, where it will sit and gather dust just as effectively as the old model did. Reward self for being virtuously domestic with rest of doughnuts and nap.
* Well, what do you wear for lying around in the afternoons eating bon bons and teasing delivery boys?
** He got the ironing board and giant aspidistra which I was smug about at the time but which probably served him far better than a Vax with no go.
*** Candy floss maker, now sadly defunct, aside.
**** Origins unknown, but suspected.
***** Suddenly have new and improved sympathy for the men who present themselves at casualty departments saying they were doing the vacuuming in the nude and it just kind of slipped in there.