The washing machine mirrored my mood yesterday. I went into the dank basement (also appropriate to my mood) of our building to do some laundry. One of the washing machines started right up, but when I pushed the start button on the other one, it didn’t start. Then it kind of shrugged over a little bit, half-heartedly. No water yet. Stopped. Shrugged another half-turn. Stopped. Stayed stopped. Still stopped. So powered it off and back on again. Start button. Another half-turn. Then I gave up and stalked up the stairs. I may have thrown my hands in the air and shouted a little. (I was very much in a mood all day yesterday. This didn’t help.) I figured if it wasn’t done when I came down to move the clothes into the dryers, I’d move it to the other machine.
Then I forgot about the laundry for lots of hours. (Enough hours that I felt like a jerk – what if the other tenants had planned to do laundry?) Luckily for my mood, both washers worked, and the clothes were clean and ready for the dryer. And John bought me ice cream, and I felt better.
Aren’t you glad there’s a happy ending?