Last Friday, I almost died. While vacuuming. Not even joking.

Okay, maybe I’m joking a little, but still, I wish someone would die. Her name is Edith and she’s like that little old lady in that Drew Barrymore/Ben Stiller movie The Duplex who just won’t die. Except it’s not a better house that I want (although I do want one of those), it’s a vacuum. Meet Edith:

She’s about 25 years old, which I think dates back to the Triassic period in vacuum years, and I. Hate. Her. I want a new, sleek, sexy vacuum that doesn’t have electrical tape holding her together SO BADLY, but since this is Kyle’s mom’s and she won’t give it up, I’m stuck with her. “Why buy a new vacuum?? This one works perfectly well!” Yes, perfectly well if the electric tape holds the spliced wires together and the plug-in stays together.

So back to my near-death experience. I was vacuuming away, about 1.5 songs through my house cleaning routine when I went to pull Edith along to vacuum the living room. Her cord was a little tangled, so I pulled a bit more when there was a huge spark and Edith stopped sucking. (Har har har!) Scared shitless, realize that Edith’s cord had snapped in two right at the base. “Great,” I think. “She’s dead! NEW VACUUM!” Except I figure that I should try and fix her just to say that I tried.

I managed to bare enough of the wires to try and twist them back together to get Edith to work again. I plug her back in, turn her on and NOTHING. I was excited yet horrified at the same time. Excited because I’d be able to get a new vacuum but horrified because the MIL loves that stupid vacuum and has issues with holding onto things. I unplugged her and tried again. Success! Expect why did I try fixing her? WTF was I thinking? Now I’m still stuck with her, Edith, the crazy bitch vacuum in the closet who just won’t die. Maybe I should pay off the mob to put cement around her hose and throw her into the drink. Or maybe I should just get myself one of these:

Happy Friday! I hope it doesn’t “suck”! (LOLZ)