Cleaning Posts on Crowch

It started with a sock. Or rather, the lack of one. I was standing barefoot in my hallway, holding a cup of coffee (obviously), when I noticed a dust bunny the size of a hamster casually drifting across the floor.

At 51, you don’t chase dreams as much as you chase clean corners. I sighed, put down the coffee, and pulled the vacuum from the closet like a reluctant warrior grabbing his sword.

🧹 My Vacuum Is a Dinosaur — and That’s Why I Love It

Let’s be clear: my vacuum is not smart. It doesn’t connect to Wi-Fi, it doesn’t scan the floor with lasers, and it certainly doesn’t empty itself.

It’s old, loud, and smells faintly of burnt toast.

But it works.

Every Saturday morning, I plug it in, turn on some Coltrane or old Bowie, and for the next 45 minutes — I disappear into a rhythm. Forward. Backward. Corner. Rotate. Repeat. It’s almost… meditative.

🧠 The Surprising Joy of Order

There’s a strange sense of control that comes with cleaning.

Life, at our age, throws its fair share of chaos: bills, news, back pain, weird emails from ex-colleagues. But when I vacuum, I’m not reacting to life — I’m managing it.

Dust doesn’t argue. Crumbs don’t talk back. The carpet doesn’t have opinions. It just gets clean.

And that, my friend, is peace.

Bonus: Unexpected Gains

Here’s what they don’t tell you:

You burn more calories vacuuming your house than walking a kilometer.

You find lost items (hello, favorite pen from 2018).

You gain the moral high ground during arguments that start with “You never do anything around the house.”

Also: the cat is scared of it. Which honestly, is a bonus.

Final Thought: The Vacuum Is My Zen Stick

Cleaning, I’ve realized, isn’t about perfection. It’s about participation.

You show up, you move through your space, you take ownership of the crumbs and chaos.

These days, I don’t dread vacuuming. I look forward to it.

It’s the one time in the week when no one texts me, no one needs me, and the only noise I hear is the steady hum of something finally going right.

Nuota contro corrente, as always. Even if it’s through pet hair and potato chip dust.