I'm trying to develop a new mental attitude towards cleaning, which is mostly based on observing Nancy. When Nancy is feeling particularly content, usually when lying in a patch of sunshine, she will roll onto her back and give her front paws a very meticulous wash. She seems to find this extremely luxurious and indulgent, imagine an advert for Cadbury's flake and that's Nancy washing her paws.
I'm not sure I'll ever get to the stage where I indulge in cleaning as a pleasurable past-time, but I can't keep regarding it as a hateful chore that I try and get over with as quickly as possible, because it needs to be done and it needs to be done properly.
Right now I'm oxy-cleaning the upstairs bath, which involves mixing up a gritty paste, spreading it on and leaving it for an hour whilst you enjoy a cup of tea and a peruse of Cake Wrecks: Sunday Sweets. Now that is my sort of housework.