Wednesday, October 29, 2014
A Painting I Like
It's late, but I need to stay up and constantly monitor what will probably be the last load of laundry I can eek out of my failed washing machine. I need a new washer. I'm overwhelmed by the selection. There must be hundreds of different washers on the market. Probably any of them would be fine. They all seem too expensive and too complex. Seriously, I don't think my clothes and linens could possibly detect more than three different temperatures or spin speeds. Just more little sensors that will undoubtedly fail long before the motor wants to quit. My dying washer only lasted ten years. The repairman and sales people tell me that's not bad. It seems to me that things like washing machines used to last much longer. Or is it just that ten years used to seem long? You, lovely people, can help me. If you or anybody you know has purchased a washer lately and feels okay about it, please let me know what washer it is.
I don't keep a journal, and I don't see a counselor. I don't talk to my friends enough. So sometimes I want to vent here in blog world. I think that's all right as long as I don't get too personal. I kind of want to rant about my health and my job and my love life. But I think the washing machine is a better idea.