Saturday night, I’m cleaning my house because I’d WANTED to clean it that morning but just didn’t have any desire to do so whatsoever. So I spent most of the day sleeping and watching YouTube videos.
That evening after dinner, I put a load of towels in and went to go clean the bedroom and the bathroom. I finally found the Del Sol shirt (they change colors in the sunlight and are horribly expensive and only found on the internet and in every freaking port we stop in on a cruise) my husband thought he’d lost a week after we got back from vacation last summer.
Anyway…I get the bathroom and bedroom tidied up and haul a load of laundry out to the kitchen because it’s going in as soon as the towels are done. I walk into the laundry room to see if the towels ARE done and there’s a weird hot rubber smell. I’m not sure where it’s coming from but the washing machine is at a dead stop. I fiddle with the dials and it’s not doing a damn thing. I change the load size from Extra Large to Small..and the dial gets stuck. I manage to force it back to Extra Large (where it’s usually set anyway) and call my husband. And of course, I just get his voice mail so I leave a short message and sit down to compose an email to him about the problem which we can’t fix right now ANYWAY because it’s 7 pm on a Saturday night at that point.
Midway through composing the email, I hear the washing machine kick on and water draining out of it. Hallefreakinglujah. I was kinda quietly freaking out because it had stopped mid-rinse cycle with a tub full of water. A moment later, it started the spin cycle and I quietly praised The God of Washing Machines for it not being dead.
I guess it was just playing possum but damn if my heart rate didn’t skyrocket for a few minutes.