Law Students

It's official. I'm spoiled. Sunday, during a self-imposed laundry marathon (I have found the bottom of my closet floor and it is a wondrous thing), my washing machine decided to go on strike. No amount of negotiating or load-lightening would coax it back into operation.

I called Sears. Praise heaven, I'm still within the three-year service plan. When can the repairman come? Tuesday between 8am and noon. Not Monday, but also not Wednesday. I called my Mom. She agreed to help me out, and was available until about 1:30p. No worries.

Cut to Tuesday. After 1pm. After I've spent some time at the BMV getting my expired plates back in the land of the legal. After I've slowly but surely begun to recognize that June has become nothing but a nonbillable hour time suck. I get in touch with Mom. No Sears man.

I rush home. The Sears man calls; he's on his way. Cut to 2:16pm.

Me: So, what's the verdict? (nice lawyer talk)
Him: Oh, the dispenser arm is stuck.
Me: Why does it do that?
Him: Bad design.
Me: *blink, blink*
Him: I'm going to order you a new one [no doubt the installation of which will require another service call], but I'm trying to fix it so you can use it in the meantime.
Me: *blink, blink*

So there it is. Somehow, despite that neither laundry nor housekeeping occupy the majority of my time or worry, and despite that I know I am blessed and have many things for which to be thankful, I never contemplated the prospect of my life as it is without a functioning washing machine. It is, in a word, bleak.

Full post as published by Just Playin on June 24, 2008 (boomark / email).