Nasty Beyond All Belief

As I predicted, this morning I spent a good bit of time vacuuming. This wasn't as onerous a chore as I might have imagined. Normally Miss B.T. handles the nitty-gritty of running that miraculous space saving device over the floor while I attack it like some sort of terrifying monster. This time I was on my own, and I think I did a pretty good job. That is, until I decided to empty the dust bin...

So far as I can tell, this particularly unpleasant facet of the chore had not been done since, well, shortly after the Fall. There was nasty dust muck clogging the entire intake section and pouring out of nearly every part of the sucking mechanism. I decided, after really getting my hands dirty pulling this garbage out (in my underwear, no less), to go for gold and clean the filters. Vile doesn't begin to describe the crusty dust covering everything. I'll spare future details, but suffice to say that I just barely made it out of their with my life. It didn't kill me, so I guess it made me, and my allergies, stronger.