the ten years-old hoover from the office should retire soon and take an eternal rest in the stockroom. it struggles to pick up small pieces of shredded paper from the floor. the not-so-complex internal mechanism suffers from heavy breathing each time i press the power button. most of its exterior is coated with grime and hardened dirt that it attracted throughout the years.
weeks ago i felt the urge to ask my boss to replace it, but i discovered something about the old hoover that newbies will most probably not have- the hoover’s noise creates an alternative vacuum that sucks up not only the sound of ringing telephones from the office, but also the noise of the screaming thoughts inside your head. the aging hoover triumphantly drowns the mind and frees it from the burden of harboring more thoughts to ponder. it provides temporary relief and escape to the operator, taking him to the realm of solitary peace from the noise of the world. as it fills the air with the sound of its machine, it silences the clamors of the mind and temporarily calms the soul.
although it is beyond my job description to clean the office, i find time to volunteer running the hoover. i do not really care if it fails to pick small pieces of paper and dirt on the floor. as long as it takes away the noise in my head, i will use it and keep it away from the stockroom.