Death by Dyson

Suddenly in a matter of days our house has turned from student heaven (bottles on all surfaces, ants, dust and left over pizza boxes) into a domesticated housewife’s lair.
With only two out of us five girls still living here, it was oddly rewarding to whip out the hover and give the house the clean it needed. But as with most university related things at the moment it made my heart go ‘twang.’
Yesterday Claire left uni and we (Becky and I) watched her drive away, leaving the pair of us sniffling and a little bit teary.
So when I got the hover out this morning for a bit of spring cleaning and the same effect happened, I was more than a bit worried. Crying over a hover is probably a condition for a psychologist. Or some Dyson loving ‘fetisher.’
On the plus side the house once again looks new, but sadly on the downside the end is getting ever closer. I Might just have to stay clear of any hovers or similar cleaning equipment for the time being. Gutted.