Don't ever confuse me with a domestic goddess or Martha Stewart type. Besides the fact that I don't like prison togs, after yesterday I will probably have to consider sex change surgery. 
I am still repeating my Mantra..."I hate manwork, I hate man work, I HATE man work!"
I was doing laundry. The washer and dryer are in the basement, which has a creepy rating of 8. It was daylight, so I figured I wouldn't need to turn the lights on. There are nice glass block windows all around. I go down the stairs and my glasses immediately fog up. I look up and the dryer vent hose had come off the round metal hole through the glass block. Simple job, just needs a screwdriver. But I can't reach it. So, I do the smart thing. Climb up (using my best monkey skills) into the cement sink. Not thinking it through, I realized as I struggled with this giant live snake that I didn't turn the dryer off, and the force of a hurricane was keeping me from attaching it. As I struggled with it, I found something else I hadn't thought through. The washer started shooting water out all up my legs. Cold water. The hose was securely screwed in place, and I was trying to escape the water when the third thing I hadn't thought through dawned on me. How was I going to get out of the sink when my feet don't touch the floor from there?
Since I'm at the computer now you can safely assume I made it out of the sink, but it wasn't a pretty sight.
A bad enough experience? It gets better.
I heard a distinctive "Fooom" and the hose popped off the back of the dryer. "I hate man work" I grumble as I try to squeeze behind the dryer. My glasses are steamed, there is no light, I am squished between the dryer and the nasty basement wall, and I can't see the screw to tighten the hose. I stop for a moment and think things through, "what would a man do?" I start to feel very intelligent as a plan forms, and then some damned big black multi-legged thing skitters out from under the dryer. I jump up quickly and bash my skull on the big metal power box hanging over the dryer.
Head throbbing, jeans wet, sneakers squishing, I still don't do the smart thing and cry. I pull the dryer from the wall, get a flashlight and reattach the hose. All's right in the basement and the laundry continues.
Bad experience, huh? Not done yet.
I went upstairs to continue cleaning and the belt broke on my vacuum cleaner. Did I know where the instructions were to take it apart? Nope.
After removing what seemed like a couple thousand screws, and having vacuum dirt spill all over the rug I finally got it ready. Then I saw the new belt.
It was about the size of a small rubberband, but very thick. And I had to stretch it about a mile from the beater bar to the post. I rolled on the floor with this machine, stretchine the belt, pushing with my feet, and having all the vacuum cleaner dirt stick to my wet jeans. But I did it, and also reattached the couple thousand screws without having any left over.
Did I mention that I hate man work?
I am still repeating my Mantra..."I hate manwork, I hate man work, I HATE man work!"I was doing laundry. The washer and dryer are in the basement, which has a creepy rating of 8. It was daylight, so I figured I wouldn't need to turn the lights on. There are nice glass block windows all around. I go down the stairs and my glasses immediately fog up. I look up and the dryer vent hose had come off the round metal hole through the glass block. Simple job, just needs a screwdriver. But I can't reach it. So, I do the smart thing. Climb up (using my best monkey skills) into the cement sink. Not thinking it through, I realized as I struggled with this giant live snake that I didn't turn the dryer off, and the force of a hurricane was keeping me from attaching it. As I struggled with it, I found something else I hadn't thought through. The washer started shooting water out all up my legs. Cold water. The hose was securely screwed in place, and I was trying to escape the water when the third thing I hadn't thought through dawned on me. How was I going to get out of the sink when my feet don't touch the floor from there?
Since I'm at the computer now you can safely assume I made it out of the sink, but it wasn't a pretty sight.
A bad enough experience? It gets better.
I heard a distinctive "Fooom" and the hose popped off the back of the dryer. "I hate man work" I grumble as I try to squeeze behind the dryer. My glasses are steamed, there is no light, I am squished between the dryer and the nasty basement wall, and I can't see the screw to tighten the hose. I stop for a moment and think things through, "what would a man do?" I start to feel very intelligent as a plan forms, and then some damned big black multi-legged thing skitters out from under the dryer. I jump up quickly and bash my skull on the big metal power box hanging over the dryer.
Head throbbing, jeans wet, sneakers squishing, I still don't do the smart thing and cry. I pull the dryer from the wall, get a flashlight and reattach the hose. All's right in the basement and the laundry continues.
Bad experience, huh? Not done yet.
I went upstairs to continue cleaning and the belt broke on my vacuum cleaner. Did I know where the instructions were to take it apart? Nope.
After removing what seemed like a couple thousand screws, and having vacuum dirt spill all over the rug I finally got it ready. Then I saw the new belt.
It was about the size of a small rubberband, but very thick. And I had to stretch it about a mile from the beater bar to the post. I rolled on the floor with this machine, stretchine the belt, pushing with my feet, and having all the vacuum cleaner dirt stick to my wet jeans. But I did it, and also reattached the couple thousand screws without having any left over.
Did I mention that I hate man work?
