I am so tired I can't lift my arms.

But this carpet cleaner ROCKS.   It's a Hoover Max-Extract, if you care, and no, this is not an ad. I am not compensated by Hoover, but it did a nice job. I am exhausted. Like, going to bed at 9.  I slept horribly last night.  I had the strangest damn dreams, from long-dead relatives reappearing and acting weird and inappropriate*, to VP Biden assigning me a task of writing a book of humorous quotes.  And there was copious dog shit.  I think my subconscious was revved up to deal with the carpet.  That's the ONLY part of the many weird, weird dreams I can link to something in the waking world.

But cleaning the carpet was way satisfying.  DAMN, the amount of dirt pulled from this carpet was disgusting, and the many, many splotches of greige spot-cleaned spots are gone.  It's all a uniform hated shade of off-white again. There are faint traces of Higgins, but they are faint and not like, you walk in the front door and the carpet looks gross.  Cat puke is apparently forever on this carpet.

I vacuumed again right before using the carpet machine. I filled the Dyson with gray fuzz again.  It had been 48 hours since the last pass.  That just ain't right.

I didn't suddenly start loving this carpet. I still loathe it.  But I can live with it for another year or two, because it is much cleaner today. If I attack it with the machine maybe once a quarter, with frequent vacuumings in between, we're good.  I wouldn't do more than that for fear of killing the cleaning machine.  I had to disassemble it (and that was quite easy) to clean gobs and gobs of matted, sticky, nasty carpet fiber out of the works.

It was a better deal than renting a machine, and I'm really pleased with the results.  I'm also really, really freaking tired. 

* No, not THAT kind of inappropriate.  Just weird, because my brain was telling me that it was my uncle, but no, it didn't look like him or act like him.