Addictions

In the last two months, we have had lots of company.  

Now I love me some company; I can share my living space with damn near anyone.  We're going on three weeks with my inlaws here from England and I have especially enjoyed the company.  While I am not as much the anti-television person my mother in law is, I am also not as much the television guru that my husband is.  It's been nice to have someone to actually talk to other than at dinner time.  

I can give up my quiet time, my normally fairly tidy house, I can even deal with the cat bowls being moved from the kitchen table (two of the felines hate to eat with the other four) to the hutch...promising Hannah and Jasmine to just deal with it for another week and all will be well with their world.  But I beg of you, give me my vacuum cleaner.

I think I have mentioned before my unnatural attachment to my Dyson.  I love it and even more importantly, I love using it.  There is something cathartic about being able to quickly sweep away all that is dirty or does not belong.  I am downright compulsive about picking up every single teeny tiny bit of lint, cat hair, dirt and child's snacks that have fallen on the floor and I do this every single day.  Except lately.

Having to work in the mornings, I generally continue my vacuuming affair after work, but with my mother in law here, she had been doing it in the mornings after I leave.  Though I am most grateful for the help (I really do appreciate it) I miss my vacuum and to be honest, no one else vacuums in the same methodic way that I do.  I can generally still see stuff on the floors when I come home from work, and I itch to satisfy my addiction, but to re-vacuum would be rude.  It would seem unappreciative though that is not the case at all.  She can dust, do laundry, anything she wants, just leave the Dyson to me.

Of course, I will never tell her this because that would involve explaining that I am somewhat of a freak. So just forgive me if I twitch now and then while they are still here.