Thursday, October 1, 2009

wash out

In the midst of our epic company-up-to-here marathon, our washing machine broke yesterday, it's so exciting. I reached in to extract my delicates, which are fussy bitches that demand to be hung with care. They weighed 100 lbs. and were totally sopping wet. I reset the spin cycle and each of 15 times my hope was dashed by the same lifeless wet heap. So I said fuck. A lot. Then we paid our guy to come today and tell us to buy a new set. Then Todd said fuck. Well, translated precisely it's more of a sigh, but it means fuck, trust me.

Can I just say? Much like running out of milk derails every culinary need you could possibly have, having no washing machine essentially relegates a household to something like a third world country. The clothes are still too wet to hang, and now I feel we must all wear only our skivvies until the new set can be fetched, somewhere in between my cleaning job, art classes, Todd's and Quinn's camping trip, and the aforementioned 20+ towels used each day by our beloved guest. I seriously don't want to wear anything, because, in this holocaust of washerlessness, I can only imagine a greater need arising for each and every garment I consider. So I'm rationing, wearing shitty clothes first, and will work my way up so that if Barack Obama calls, there's a better chance of having something.

Gail suggested I go to a laundromat. We are no longer friends.

I also feel like I can't wash dishes or dust or whatever because I don't want to add to the bins, which are rising ominously. And of course I had just stripped all the sheets and prepared to put that machine through the paces before it got the last laugh and croaked, knowing I planned to wash everything in the house before our impossible weekend.

So if you drop by, or shall I say when you drop by, since Todd keeps promising vegetables to everyone and forgetting to tell me, and Sonny likes to invite people over (mind you he's on Maui time, so folks are swinging by at 11pm), please be prepared for semi-nudity because I have basically sealed off the laundry room with crime scene tape and threatened anyone who dares to throw something in.

Oh, well don't cry for me Argentina, Todd just said he's getting the new set tomorrow. Truth be told though, I'll probably be in my underwear anyway.


Alice in Wonderland said...

Just popped over from Mesina's blog to say Hi, here I'm waving a white flag! I laughed when I read this. It reminded me of a friend of mine who phoned me almost in the middle of the night, to ask me if I had the telephone number of a local washing machine repair service. Now, I'm not the most technically minded person in the world, but I knew that she had the same machine as me, so I asked her what was wrong with it. "Well, it keeps going whirl, whirl grrr" she said sounding really serious, but sounding so funny that I had to ask her again to repeat the noise.
Well, I fell out of bed laughing my ass off and started looking for a number for her, all the time, I was thinking of this whirl, whirl grrr! I know with my machine, a kick in the right place and a few choice words usually do the trick.
Your post just reminded me about this incident!

Mesina said...

omg...I am so relating! But in a more grotesque and sick manner.

You see, when Maurice left me for Holland for that dire week (we nearly didn't survive) friday came and well, that's the fateful day the bin men come to collect the shit we seem to fester in this house. But two things need to be considered here...One...we have two bins. The recycle and the normal. This was for the normal, which was pretty full. I put that bin out at 7.45am, those jerks never show up before 9. THOSE ASSES CAME AT LIKE 7AM THAT MORNING! So now, even though I recycle, we simply fill the other one up like much faster.

Now outside we look like some sort of garbage loving family who can't sort their shit out. NOW I fear taking more garbage out to the bin. Thursday night Maurice has strict instructions to plant all the rubbish outside so it's ready...and I bet you anything those jerkwads show up at 10am so that all my neighbors can see our filth before they pick it up and go like ''GAWD those people are gross!''

Oh and, I always have a laundry pile. It's not even funny.... ♥