AAAAHHH FUCK
THE DRYER. IS. BROKEN.
After I finished ranting last night, I went to go watch me some Trigun, after which I threw my wet laundry into the dryer. I pushed the button, distinctly heard it start tumbling, and went upstairs to crash. Assuming, like a fool, that it would actually dry my clothes, I went downstairs before work to get some clean underwear.
The underwear was slightly damp; I was surprised, since I hadn't done a particularly large load, but not really upset. Imagine, then, my equanimity quickly fading into BLINDING RAGE when I reached further into the dryer and touched THREE PAIRS OF SOPPING WET JEANS. I don't mean "slightly damp", which again, I can live with. I mean "wtf I thought I fucking dried these" wet.
I checked to make sure I hadn't put the dryer on the wrong setting, and to make sure I'd shut the door all the way (we have a front-load dryer); all was as it should be. Figuring I'd fucked up, and that I would let my clothes tumble while I was at work, I pressed the start button, expecting to hear the familiar sound of clothes happily tumbling their way to aridity.
Nothing. Just a click and a faint buzzing noise. I frantically pushed it again and again, displaying that peculiarly human fuckwittery which thinks perhaps the dryer just doesn't understand. Still nothing.
Pestering teh m0mmy at work provided me with the helpful information that the dryer had probably been living on borrowed time (we got it at the beginning of our stint in Maryland, which was in 1991), followed by angst over the repair vs. replace quandary. I said that Best Buy had raised my credit limit, so she could pick out a new dryer, which brought on OMG ONOS ANGST D: and suchlike. Mom exhibits difficulty grasping the concept of X-chan's and my being grown and able to afford (fairly) expensive shit.
Also, I am really pissed with Wal-Mart for classing sunscreen as a "seasonal" item and thus taking it off the shelves. It may well be for most people, but I am not most people. None of my ancestors came from climes where the natives are renowned for their robustly tanned skin. I would no more leave the house without SPF 35, which is the minimum I feel safe wearing, than I would without my pants. Perhaps in the winter I would blow it off a little, but summer isn't over yet. Rawr. LEE SMASH!
Other than that, today really didn't suck. I went to the Peach after work, and I'm going foraging for more YA Poo tomorrow to celebrate Hump Day, and I've finally arranged to have someone who has any idea what the hell s/he's doing do something about my dreadful toenails, and then I get to wrangle Callice into the kitty taxi later this week so that HER dreadful toenails can be taken care of. (She's started to click when she walks on the hardwood or tiles, which is how I can tell; I tried doing it at home with Mom to help hold her down, but she struggles and cries and I don't want her to see me coming and think OH NOES!. Though she probably thinks, "Here comes Mommy to tell me to stop doing whatever I'm doing and clap loudly at me if I keep at it.")
Promise will get to e-mail and comments and entries and such, but am presently going to go crash. ♥
After I finished ranting last night, I went to go watch me some Trigun, after which I threw my wet laundry into the dryer. I pushed the button, distinctly heard it start tumbling, and went upstairs to crash. Assuming, like a fool, that it would actually dry my clothes, I went downstairs before work to get some clean underwear.
The underwear was slightly damp; I was surprised, since I hadn't done a particularly large load, but not really upset. Imagine, then, my equanimity quickly fading into BLINDING RAGE when I reached further into the dryer and touched THREE PAIRS OF SOPPING WET JEANS. I don't mean "slightly damp", which again, I can live with. I mean "wtf I thought I fucking dried these" wet.
I checked to make sure I hadn't put the dryer on the wrong setting, and to make sure I'd shut the door all the way (we have a front-load dryer); all was as it should be. Figuring I'd fucked up, and that I would let my clothes tumble while I was at work, I pressed the start button, expecting to hear the familiar sound of clothes happily tumbling their way to aridity.
Nothing. Just a click and a faint buzzing noise. I frantically pushed it again and again, displaying that peculiarly human fuckwittery which thinks perhaps the dryer just doesn't understand. Still nothing.
Pestering teh m0mmy at work provided me with the helpful information that the dryer had probably been living on borrowed time (we got it at the beginning of our stint in Maryland, which was in 1991), followed by angst over the repair vs. replace quandary. I said that Best Buy had raised my credit limit, so she could pick out a new dryer, which brought on OMG ONOS ANGST D: and suchlike. Mom exhibits difficulty grasping the concept of X-chan's and my being grown and able to afford (fairly) expensive shit.
Also, I am really pissed with Wal-Mart for classing sunscreen as a "seasonal" item and thus taking it off the shelves. It may well be for most people, but I am not most people. None of my ancestors came from climes where the natives are renowned for their robustly tanned skin. I would no more leave the house without SPF 35, which is the minimum I feel safe wearing, than I would without my pants. Perhaps in the winter I would blow it off a little, but summer isn't over yet. Rawr. LEE SMASH!
Other than that, today really didn't suck. I went to the Peach after work, and I'm going foraging for more YA Poo tomorrow to celebrate Hump Day, and I've finally arranged to have someone who has any idea what the hell s/he's doing do something about my dreadful toenails, and then I get to wrangle Callice into the kitty taxi later this week so that HER dreadful toenails can be taken care of. (She's started to click when she walks on the hardwood or tiles, which is how I can tell; I tried doing it at home with Mom to help hold her down, but she struggles and cries and I don't want her to see me coming and think OH NOES!. Though she probably thinks, "Here comes Mommy to tell me to stop doing whatever I'm doing and clap loudly at me if I keep at it.")
Promise will get to e-mail and comments and entries and such, but am presently going to go crash. ♥