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It Never Gets Old...
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Another Stroller Battle
Historical Perspective
Ask a Silly Question
Symptomatic
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What Would You Do?
The dryer is fixed, which is a relief after multiple misdiagnoses and all kinds of unpleasant scenarios in which we would drape wet laundry over convenient surfaces and point fans at it to encourage mildly faster drying. This latest fix appears successful (knock wood), though it required two visits and two dryer analysts to perform the cure.
One of the remedies they insisted upon when they came over the first time, two weeks ago, was that I replace the venting hose with a metal one. (Ours was some sort of plastic thing, which is apparently an enormous fire hazard- word to the wise... and rather frightening that we lived with that thing for years, oblivious to the danger.) Needless to say, accessing the hose required some contortions and in my current state, I'm not exactly in shape to slip and nip delicately behind appliances, so I asked if they could help a bit.
They balked, naturally. Why? Perhaps they're lazy or their union doesn't let them. Maybe their backs were bad or they were hungry. On my end, the dog was barking, the kid was looking to make some kind of trouble under the couch, and I felt ashamed for acting the weakling so I told them to leave, that I would deal with the hose and that they could return when they had the part that promised to definitively fix the dryer.
They hit the road pronto, and I made what would have been a spectacle of myself, had anyone been around to witness me, extracting the offensive vent hose.
Later, a friend scolded me about my spinelessness:
"Why didn't you ask these guys for their mother's phone numbers? Because I would like to know what they would have to say to their sons who wouldn't give a pregnant woman a hand with something that is pretty much their job anyway!"
It had occurred to me to be irritable, but not indignant.
And yet, as I have perhaps indicated already, I'm having a hard time accepting my body and its new, albeit temporary limitations. I'd rather make a fool of myself than accept help. It is preposterous that I've been down this road before and have yet to learn that there are easier ways to do things.
EDITED: In the words of the Lady of Shallot, "the curse is come upon me"-- the dryer has stopped working again. That's what one gets for thinking ill of the repairfolks.
posted by Elise at 4:42 AM
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