Okay, I imposed on a neighbor and resolved the wet laundry crisis. But, judging from the comments yesterday, a number of you still labor under the unfortunate delusion that I am a dead ringer for Ma Ingalls. Hang up the wet clothes? Really? Do I sound that domestically inclined to any of you, ever? And have you any idea of the quantity of laundry we are talking about here? And where would I hang it?
|I'm not cut out for this lifestyle, people.|
I mean, I suppose - in theory - I could have strung a clothesline across my living room...
(with thumbtacks, maybe? See? I don't even know HOW)
...but having that mess in my face all day would probably have robbed me of the will to live. And hanging them in the basement, as one commenter suggested, would only have resulted in my finding those ubiquitous centipedes clinging to the damp clothing the next morning.
Next thing I know, you'll be telling me I can manage just fine without flush toilets.
Anyway, on the bright side, I remembered to renew our appliance protection plan when it expired last June. So the dryer repairman is scheduled to show up on Thursday, and it shouldn't cost me any (more) money. I hope. Plus, the dryer is located in our mess of a utility room. I can't wait to tell Larry he needs to neaten it up so that the repairman can do his thing. Not exactly one of his favorite ways to unwind after work, I'm sure...
[Clothesline image: Old Picture of the Day]