Rise of the Machines

Sorry for the lack of posting this week, but it’s been so nice having these days off that I haven’t even gone near a computer. We enjoyed fireworks and a cook-out on Tuesday night – lucky for us since the rain foiled our attempts to do the same thing on the actual 4th. Although Matt did make quite a good fort (out of two camp chairs, a blanket, and his sneakers) for us to wait out the rain in, we eventually decided that it was worth threat of pneumonia to see more fireworks. (Wow, I should totally get points for spelling pneumonia correctly on the first try!)

Yesterday, Matt headed off to work while I had the day off. I started by re-reading the 6th Harry Potter book (in preparation for the new one coming out), and then I scoured the house from top to bottom. Probably not the way most people would spend their day off, but there’s just something so satisfying about a nice clean house.

Then I noticed a bit of a funkified smell coming from the kitchen. I correctly deduced that it was the garbage disposal, and started Operation Garbage Disposal DeFunkify. First I scrubbed the little rubber drain thingie, which seemed to take care of the problem, and then I remembered that if you put ice down the disposal it can help too. So I put ice down the disposal, and turned it on…

… And the damn thing spit ice back at me! At my FACE! I did not know that this was possible, but apparently the disposal can spit things back at you when sufficiently pissed, and this is definitely something to keep in mind if you ever put something particularly vile down there. It might be coming back, so watch out.

After putting some ice on the spot on my face that had been viciously attacked – by ICE, oh the irony – I headed downstairs to do some laundry. I did one load of laundry…

… and everything was fine. Goodie! Then I put the second load of laundry in…

… and the dryer made a noise THAT SHOULD NEVER BE MADE BY A DRYER. Remember how I described my obnoxious co-worker’s voice as a cross between fingernails on a chalkboard and dying cat? Well from now on I’ll be describing her voice as BROKEN DRYER. Seriously, I think my ears are still ringing.

(Man is coming out tomorrow to look at dryer. I’m pretty sure the cost of repairs will be more than we paid for the dryer, but since we only paid 50 bucks for the dryer, and seeing as how HOLY HELL WE CANNOT AFFORD A NEW DRYER I’ll be just fine with that.)

Then, in the mail last night, we received a Surprise! bill from the town that we live in. For nine hundred and eighty dollars. That’s a 9 and an 8 and a 0. That’s also a LOT OF FREAKIN’ MONEY.

I called this morning and figured out the problem (some kind of computer error; clearly it had been communicating with the disposal and the dryer) but not without aging about 10 years in the process, because if we don’t have money for a new dryer, we sure as HELL don’t have any for the town government. I think it was a Family Guy episode (or maybe Simpsons?) where one of the characters decides to succeed from the union so that he doesn’t have to pay taxes (thereby forming his own sovereign nation consisting only of his own house) and DON’T THINK I DIDN’T CONSIDER IT.

Anyway, I quit. If this adulthood, they can take away my admission pass. Because quite frankly, sometimes it blows.

But! I am determined not to let the man (or, in this case, the appliances) get me down. I’m off to read (yet another) book, drink some wine, and research places to continue our mini-golf quest. Enjoy your weekend!



Filed under Holidays, Home Sweet Home

3 responses to “Rise of the Machines

  1. Liz

    Sucks about your town. I’m curious to know how your town’s computer system generated a bill for you for $980 for nothing. That’s pretty weird.

  2. Well, the $980 bill was actually our quarterly property taxes – so it was our bill, but the mistake was that it came to us instead of going to our mortgage company so that they could pay it out of our escrow account. What made it even more confusing was that it didn’t say it was for property taxes (if it had, I would have known immediately that something was wrong). I’m just glad it all worked out in the end!

  3. Pingback: I am woman. Hear me roar. «

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