Are your fingers all cramped up from crossing them in hopes that my dryer gets fixed tomorrow? Well, too bad! Keep them crossed! I don't know what I'll do if the dyer-fixers can't fix it tomorrow. Actually, I know exactly what I'll do, I'll got to the laundromat with my wet clothes AGAIN. I'm running out of quarters, people! Its been almost a month that I have been dryer-free, and I am done with this little experiment. So done. I've called Sears and confirmed that they are coming tomorrow, and that they are sending two guys, and that at least one of them will be a senior repair man, preferably the same one who came last time so I can be done with getting a different dryer fairy tale from every one of them. That metal ring I told you about? How it was rusting? Turns out, there is no metal ring, no rust. The last guy took the dryer apart and actually showed me what was staining my clothes, and when I asked about the metal ring, he's all, "yeah, not metal. I don't know why he told you that." I just want the straight poop. Tell me the truth, I can take it. Fix my dryer, I can take that, too.
So now I'm mentally preparing myself for the following probabilities: The repair guys will start by going to the wrong address in spite of my clear instructions. They will get here five minutes - make it ten - after the nine - noon window I have been given. They wont be a they, they'll be a he because Sears will fail to send the two technicians that it will take to lift my dryer off of the washer and out of the laundry closet. He will not be a senior technician, so I will have to make him leave without touching the dryer and telling me more stories about why its not working and what the other guys did wrong. Then I will call Sears to complain and book another appointment, and they will tell me that it will be at least a week.
Eventually, they will get the dryer out only to discover that they can't fix it, and I will have to get a new dryer.
If you are sick of hearing about my stupid dryer, just imagine how I feel.
Leila has been at her friend's house across the street for hours. All day, actually. Its been HEAVENLY. I mean, I love her and all, but seriously? All day, every day for two weeks? Right. They were supposed to come over here this afternoon, but they haven't yet, and I'm afraid to call over there and ruin the peace and quiet. Its so... quiet! No Mario Bros, no "hey mommy! mommy! hey mommy!" no "wanna color/ play charades / melt some crayons?" I think I'll watch a little bit of Oprah. If I sit still enough, maybe they wont know I'm here and they wont bother me?