Cleaning is not my favorite task. A long time ago, I figured something out - the dirt always wins. So really the question becomes one of dirt tolerance. Since, our planet being made of it and all, the dirt returns relentlessly, each person ends up with some kind of guide as to what dirt level is acceptable. Mine and spouse's differ, though not so much to cause (many) rows. Also over the years I've worn Serge down by convincing him that all our dirt woes are dog related and that's just the way it is. Dog in house equals dirty house. (It's true you'll find doghair even in our freezer.)
Serge is also one of those people, perhaps like you, but certainly not like me, who having seen some flaw in the paint/carpet/whatever, can never NOT see it again. Nagging at him and taunting him, the flaw eventually sets him into action. That's what happened yesterday, and I caught him in the act.