At the Mercy of Inanimate Objects
Many moons ago, I blogged about having a love/hate relationship with my cell phone (and, unfortunately, I have yet to progress past the thinly-veiled passive aggression I feel whenever my phone does/does not ring).
This morning, it occurred to me that I have similar love/hate relationships with other inanimate objects in my life:
Dishwasher: While I'm thankful to have a dishwasher in my tiny Boston apartment, it sure would be swell if this particular dishwasher didn't take more than two hours to run one cycle, and would actually wash the dishes during the first cycle instead of having to be re-run twice Every. Single. Time.
And, as dishwashers do, it breeds laziness in our kitchen (the thought of hand-washing something hasn't crossed our minds in two years), so we run this dishwasher a lot. I'm of the firm belief that one day the world's dwindling water supply will be traced back to this very dishwasher.
Washer/Dryer: Again, I am very happy not to have to cart my dirty laundry two blocks down to the laundromat. I am.
But the two washers/dryers in the basement of our building do not exactly live up to their full potential. Sure, the washer wets our clothes, and even swirls them around a bit, but my roommate and I both know that if, God forbid, we actually spill something on our clothing, we'd do better to cut our losses and toss it out rather than get our hopes up that the washer will actually remove the stain.
The dryer, on the other hand, works. Too well. All of my clothing shrinks half a size every time it comes out of the dryer, so every six weeks or so I find myself rocking Flashdance-style half-tops and tight pants at the gym. I now buy xtra-large T-shirts so that they'll last me more than a month before shrinking down to toddler sizes.
Remote Controls: Ok, this one is my fault. The remote control to my bedroom TV hasn't had a battery change in years. Years. And I, being too lazy to buy and install new batteries, persist in banging the crap out of it on my nightstand every time I want to use it in an attempt to spark the battery just one last time. But as long as it keeps working, I'll keep banging.
The TV remote in the living room, on the other hand, is a complete mystery. I understand the universal button for "On/Off" and the arrow keys to change channels, but not much else. Why does one remote for one TV need so many buttons? I live in fear of accidentally hitting the wrong one and blowing up the TV. And when that battery finally dies - forget any hope of figuring out how to replace it. We'll have to get a whole new TV.
Hairdryer: Thank you, hairdryer, for drying my hair. If there's any possible way you could not severely burn my scalp at the same time, that would be AWESOME.
Microwave: The microwave at our house is staging a revolt. I don't know if it feels mistreated or overworked or what, but whenever we try to turn it on, it makes a loud clicking noise and lights starting flashing inside like it's about to explode. Since we're no longer allowed to call on the Boston Fire Department for help after our CO2 mishap(s), we must avoid the impending explosion at all costs. This has forced us to start using the oven, and don't even get me started on that egotistical appliance.
