Stress relief and a clean floor

Whenever I am feeling stress, I act on it. I'm not one to wallow in worry. A problem exists, I need to take care of it. (To be fair, it takes a bit of a build up before I consider something a problem, but my procrastination habit will have to wait for another post.)

Sometimes the problem can't be solved right away. For example, we recently had an issue with the bank and our checking account. We uncovered the problem on a Saturday. The 800 customer service folks were no help (after 30 minutes of talk and wait time!) We had to wait for the bank branch to open on Monday.

Failing to follow my own secrets to happiness, I did not "let it go" at all. I stressed out. But I have a natural response to stress. I start cleaning. Simple stuff that won't get me in trouble with Jocelyn, of course. I unload and reload the dishwasher, I wipe down the counter, check the air filters, fluff the throw pillows, refold the lap blankets (yes, we use lap blankets), but all of this only takes a few minutes. I still need to physically vent.

So, I grab the Hoover (exact model shown here.) I vaccuum the two area rugs in the living room. Then I do the hardwoods. I move furniture around. Then I switch extensions and vacuum the runner on the stairs working from bottom to top. By the time I am done, the whole downstairs and the stairs are looking pretty good.

And by then, I'm usually feeling a bit better about the problem I'm trying to fix. If not, I grab the broom and dustpan.

Besides the pure catharsis of the activity, there is an inherent feeling of satisfaction with each push and pull of the vacuum. To see the carpet pile move in patterns, picking up little white dog hairs from the strangest places, to hear that familiar rattle as some unseen granule is picked up and bounced around by the brush roller, these are the simple pleasures brought by domestic engineering technology.

Though that Mr. Clean Magic Eraser thing is pretty cool, too.