It’s the Straw That Broke the Camel’s Humpy Back, Y’all
Why can’t I get my positivity to play ball with me?
“Get it together, Melissa!”
“Life isn’t going that badly, and you’re being a whiner.”
“Count your blessings, not your problems!”
So, one of the many things that have gone wrong for us in the last bit is that both my washer and dryer decided to die a flaming death in a theatrical display of I-hate-you-Melissa-and-now-you-and-your-family-get-to-be-the-smelly-folks.
Of course, until our house closes, we don’t have the funds to replace these moody suckers, so the handiest fella I know (that would be my redheaded hottie, aka the hubster, aka my main [only] squeeze) set to work trying to rig them back together to force them to limp along until all is well in Household Us.
He managed to get the washer pretty much on top of the world (so sayeth his adoring and impressed wifey poo), but the dryer is still gasping its last breath every load we put into it, so we have to baby her a bit. This is the reason we have to wash very small loads, see? That way the dryer isn’t overexerting herself and all that. Still, we have to restart it so many times I get dizzy walking back to the laundry room, but it’s better than if she didn’t work at all.
