Of course I would dust before I vacuumed (dust drifted down before the Swiffer Duster), just like I would obviously sweep tile floors before scrubbing down appliances (soggy floor debris makes me cringe, and that’s why brooms get gross).
I vacuumed down the second floor stairs because it was easier to work with gravity, the first floor vacuuming ended at the closet in which the vacuum lived, and the final swipe of the mop was at the head of the basement stairs, where I took the mop water to dump in the utility sink.
I tranced out into my cleaning flow, and suddenly realized I’d made the house spotless in only two hours. What used to take half the family half the day to finish, I’d accomplished in record time by myself, and I knew to my bones that I hadn’t missed a thing.
From those foundations, I went on to easily introduce less regular events like oven cleaning or three loads of laundry, feeling imminently capable and knowing they were taking minimal extra time.
So much rejoicing! No one would quite geek out with me sufficiently at the time, so who knows where other 13-year-olds were finding their joy.