I used to vacuum every single day. Not because I’m obsessive — but because I had to.
A small dog shouldn’t produce that much hair, but mine does. Couch, clothes, car seats, blankets — nothing ever stayed clean for more than 24 hours.
And then it happened — the moment that finally pushed me over the edge.
A friend came over for coffee, sat down for ten minutes, stood up… and her entire black leggings looked like a fur coat. She laughed it off — I wanted the floor to open and swallow me.
That night I didn’t vacuum — I cried instead.