The vacuum from hell

 

     I seldom vacuum my house.  My reason is simple.  My vacuum has the decibel level of a jack hammer.  The dogs hide in their crates when I start it.  I’ve taken to wearing ear protection when running it.  Yes, I vacuum the house with my gun range head set on.  Have you ever answered a door while wearing those things?  I have.  It is somewhat disconcerting to people.

     Yesterday I ordered a new vacuum.  I want a clean house without having to go deaf in the process.  I didn’t want another bag less vacuum.  I’m tired of choking on dust, dog hair, and dander when I empty it.  It also takes filters that cost an arm and a leg if you can find them.  I don’t think I can spare the body parts.  My vacuum is heavy and awkward.  It’s like wrestling with an elephant on wheels with flat tires.    

     Another thing, it takes forever to suck up dirt and it never gets it all.  A work out on wheels that sucks, or rather, doesn’t suck enough isn’t my idea of fun.  

     The vacuum I ordered is lightweight.  I hope it’s quieter than my old one although that should be easy since a 747 landing in my yard would be quieter than the old vacuum.