I apologize, my lovely Internet friends, for this, but I'm afraid I'm going to be more absent than usual for the next bit until I get my laptop problem solved.
I am anal, therefore I must research each and every avenue possible before deciding where to go and what to do. In fact, I must first discover whether it is indeed my laptop cord that is in need of replacement, or the little thingy into which the cord goes, because right now, it could be either. I do know, however, that it is not the guinea pigs' fault this time, and I also know I am not going bonkers. Yet.
I'm actually kind of liking sitting up in the office and working on Mr. Handsome's lunk of a computer. I like it because I can sit here, in relative peace, while downstairs I hear all hell break loose. Both kids are screaming bloody murder, the dog is humping Em (unless that scream I hear is the dog humping Dee), and Mr. Handsome just walked out the front door (I think). And I don't care, because I am upstairs in the little office, happily typing away. This is like a whole world unto itself, where I can pretend I am on a beach somewhere with a Mai Tai and a nice little Mexican dude fanning me and calling me Angel. Except then I realize I went through Conquest, who has just gone belly-up, and now I'm stuck in Mexico with no way to get back home. Hey! Wait a minute! This little fantasy is getting better by the minute!
If my laptop was working, you see, I'd be in the middle of all that is going on downstairs, and probably having my 100th nervous breakdown of the day.
So, maybe NOT having my laptop fixed is a good thing? I don't know, guys. I just don't know anymore.
I do, however, know that our dryer came yesterday. And it's white. Not yellow. And I also realized that our old dryer wasn't harvest gold like I said it was last week. It was white too. What does that tell you?
Not only is it white, but it's very basic, which I think sucks, but Mr. Handsome says it's great, because what more do you need from a dryer, but that it dry clothing? I'm thinking a dryer not only has to dry clothes, but it also has to be able to fluff well, tumble with air, sense dampness, and also barbecue a chicken and massage your feet. But this one? This one does none of that. It dries. Period.
Oh, but that's not all. Of course it isn't. It's never that easy, is it? Not in this house it isn't.
The dryer delivery man, who smelled like he'd just smoked a carton of Polish cigarettes, told me he wouldn't hook the dryer up because our venting was not metal. What the?! We've had plastic venting for probably longer than forever. He told me our insurance wouldn't cover a fire if we had plastic instead of metal. It even said it all over the front of the dryer on this blue plastic wrap stuff they wrap the appliance in to keep the delivery men from scratching it all to hell.
So, I called Mr. Handsome to let him know, and he was not happy. Not at all. He mumbled something about why should we pay $87.50 to have the effing dryer delivered and hooked up if it isn't hooked up. And how can I argue with that? I can't, so I didn't.
Mr. Handsome did some researching, and he's discovered that the metal vent does not exist. Nowhere. Because he would have bought some and replaced it, being the amazing handyman that he is. But his hands are tied, folks. Tied in double knots.
So, now we have a dryer, but it still doesn't work. And meanwhile, our laundry pile, which was already backing into the garage, is growing, and is about to overtake the neighbours' house, and they're very neat and tidy people, so I really don't want to aggravate them any more than I already do.
I am a 46-year-old mom of two amazing children and wife to a wonderful and very patient man, and a lucky friend to many. I am a Realtor and a writer, but have also been a journalist, editor, and daycare provider. Not every day is a good day, but I sure try to keep smiling.