Rosie, You're Such a Dirty Girl

When I was a kid we were required to clean our bedrooms every Saturday morning. I'm sure there were times that is was a nuisance, but generally I liked doing it. I liked the cleanliness of the room, the neatness, and the fresh smell of a clean bedroom. Cleaning also kept the clutter to a minimum. To this day I hate clutter. Sure, clutter has its place. Like in antique shops, my grandmother's basement, and Mark's mind (That's why Mark could never be brainwashed. Too much clutter up there). Unfortunately I have hooked myself up to a clutter loving man. Too much crap in the house makes it very difficult to clean and to mollify me Mark bought one of those robot vacuums. We named her Rosie, very original. I programmed Rosie to clean the living room and the hallway every night at one in the morning. It's very eerie to wake up and look through the French doors between the dining room and the living room, and see that blue light flashing with Rosie moving back and forth. Each and every night I have to set the living room up for Rosie. I have to pick all the lamp cords up off the floor, all the dog toys have to be picked up along with any other crap lying around. I also have to clean Rosie out from the night before. You would think that after a month of cleaning the room every single night, there would be nothing left to pick up. Wrong, Rosie fills her little dirt chamber with dog hair, dust, and all kinds of nastiness every night. How on earth could there be that much dirt in my house? There isn't any visible dirt on the floor, yet Rosie finds plenty. I suppose it's possible that the robot is screwing with me, and sneaks out to pick up some dirt when I'm not home. Every night at around fifteen minutes after one, I hear her bang into the dining room door over and over again. Is that how she escapes to get her fill up of dirt? I don't trust her. I think she may be in cahoots with Alexa.