Once was a time when I thought there was something very wrong with me because I was very unloved. When I first met The Viking, I told him my suspicions and he snorted at me. Snorted! I thought he should have fair warning so he could back out before he was in too deep, but hey, if he wanted to recklessly ignore my warnings I may as well play along because maybe he would never find out. Sure, I suppose that could be construed as stringing him along if suddenly three years down the road something would happen, and he’d be like “Fuck! There is something very wrong with you Lady!”. But I would have three years, right? Isn’t it easier to beg forgiveness than ask for permission? That applies here, doesn’t it? However, I was dealing with a Viking and didn’t have any peer-reviewed studies on Viking forgiveness. Philosophically, I decided to be just as reckless as The Viking and stopped trying to convince him. It’s his own fault if he eventually finds out. He had his chance, after all.
The reason I’m mentioning it now is that I did a thing. All by myself. Without any input from The Viking. In fact, he didn’t even know there was a thing and that I was doing that thing alone. And the reason this is important is that The Viking loves me. Lucky for me, he still hasn’t figured out what’s wrong and I’m smart enough not to bring it up.
We show each other our love in many different ways, but at the moment I’m talking about one specific way The Viking proves he loves me.
He does things for me.
And, just as importantly, I let him do things for me. And that’s important because I’ve never had anyone to rely on, so I tend to just take care of things by myself. Purposely allowing him to control/fix things is an actual act of love on my part. So, it’s kind of a gift back at him to let him do things. I know. It’s complicated.
Anyway, he’s quite vigilant watching for moments when he can do things for me, which means that I frequently have a can yanked out of my hands so he can open it for me. If I’m doing something and accidentally curse at whatever the fuck I’m doing, The Viking shows up immediately and takes over whatever the fuck I’m doing. It’s like I can summon him, like a demon, with colorful curses.
And that brings me to the thing I did. I was doing laundry, and everything was going splendidly until Washing Machine decided to take a vacation. I tossed in the clothes, closed the door, added detergent and poked the power button.
Nothing.
I said, “Hey! What’s your problem?” I checked that the door was completely closed and checked the fuses.
Still nothing.
Dryer was working just fine so it wasn’t a plug problem.
Well, shit.
My first thought was to summon The Viking with curses, because after 14 years I’ve become less dependent on my own resourcefulness. Except, every once in a while, I feel like a loser when things are yanked out of my hands. I’m an intelligent woman and I can figure out how to open a damned can!
Deciding to figure this out on my own, I went searching for the Owner’s Manual. Finding the Owner’s Manual is a triumph all on its own since I have 14,927,062 places where I store Owner’s Manuals and I have Owner’s Manuals for things that we haven’t had for 10 years. I managed though and flipped through to the Troubleshooting page. It was written by a man. Obviously.
Owner’s Manual: Is it plugged into a power source?
Me: Yes. Ass.
OW: Check your fuses?
Me: Already did that.
OW: Okay, I’m out of ideas.
Me: I can’t believe I’m saving you. You are not worthy of storage space.
Google was much more helpful and much less condescending by suggesting a reset.
Unplug Washing Machine. While the machine is unplugged, poke and hold the power button for 5 seconds and then poke and hold the start/pause button for 5 seconds. Plug Washing Machine back in.
AND IT WORKED!! WOO HOO!! I HEALED WASHING MACHINE!! VICTORY DANCE IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM!!
I had been fully prepared to summon The Viking. I had my curses ready to go. For my own self-respect though, I wanted to do my due diligence. There’s nothing worse than summoning The Viking only to find out I missed something a toddler could find.
After I finished my Victory Dance, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. I had proven that I am smarter than Washing Machine, and if I’m smarter than Washing Machine then I’m probably smarter than Dryer. I wouldn’t take on Microwave or Refrigerator though, because that seems like a bridge too far and could result in a disastrous hit to my newly found confidence. It’s probably for the best that I quit while I’m ahead.
So, I’m taking this as a win. It’s marked on the Calendar as “Lori Vs. Washing Machine Day”. In the meantime, The Viking will just have to prove his love by doing the dishes.
Because I’m smarter than Washing Machine.
