My Best Friend the Vacum

Well, it's official, though I do actually have a lot of great friends in my life, my BFF is my vacum.


I realized this last week while cleaning my house. Vacuum is always there and available when I need him the most. I will refer to Vacum as male, because a vacum seems masculine in the way he barges through the house, leaving no corner with dust in his tracks. Vacum listens to my rants about how unfair it is to be me. And Vacum is also there when I am joyous about the special occasions we are preparing for. Vacum never tells me to calm down or that I am being out of line, even when I throw him around recklessly.


Vacum knows all my intimate secrets. I trust him completely. He knows my desires, and fulfills them when I am most in need. We do have a love hate relationship. I hate pulling and pushing him all around the house (twice a week sometimes more). I hate the pain in my neck and back after a good session. However, I strongly believe, as with every relationship, you need to weigh the good with the bad. I spend the most time with him than with any other friend. He hears my woes without judgement. He is up and running when I say go. And all the while, no matter what mood he may find me in, he leaves me with such a sense of accomplishment. I am left feeling grateful. Grateful for my clean carpet. Grateful I have such a great friend to provide it for me and family. For some reason, he always knows what to do to make me feel better, or encourage me. He cleans. He knows the sense of pride it gives me. He allows me to take all the credit. I would be nothing without my Vacum.


When Vacum died out a couple times last week (don't worry, it was just a little cold) I was there for him. I nursed him back to health with the help of some needle nose pliers. As I worked whole heartedly to get him healthy again, I thought...what would I do without him? He restores my calm with his beautiful clean lines he leaves behind. They aren't just lines of clean carpet to me. They bring the calm centered peace into my brain that everything is right with the world. Its a special bond we share. As I gently (who am I kidding, I don't do anything gently) place him back in the closet, I thank him for the therapy session we have shared. I thank him for always being there to put my life back in order when all I feel is chaos. I leave him with a mental promise to return soon. But I am sure he knows that by now.

Some people meditate, I vacum.