Battlelines have been drawn between me and my dryer.

I have terrible luck with washing machines and dryers. Choosing between the $250.00 tried-and-true and basic model or the $1,300.00 model that does all the folding, putting away, and washing for you is up to you. No matter what- they’ll only last about a year in my house. The most recent victims have been around for about a year. I realized four months ago that I had to run my loads through the dry cycle three times before they were dry. The lavender and vanilla in the dryer sheets could not conceal the musty smell by then.

I wouldn’t mind replacing them- I just wasn’t looking forward to the battle of putting it in the designated area. I just pulled all my retirement savings to fix gutters, ice breaks, and decking boards after Jack Frost wreaked havoc on my house this past winter. Ultimately, the fence should also have been replaced, but a cleverly placed bungee strap keeps it together. 

And now I am leaving. The dryer needed to do its job until I was done washing the curtains and bedding. 

During this last-minute move to the lower 48, I have managed to hold my shit together well. During my 60 trips to the dump, I have never complained. Even though my hands are bleeding from all the bleach I have used to turn the baseboards white again, I haven’t cried. I have not questioned why we have kept junk mail and advertisements for replacement windows for the past three years. 

The dryer, however, is about to send me over the waterfall because it’s behaving like a spoilt teenager!

The small things in life- never the big ones- always send me into a tailspin of depression and despair. Having to drive four days with two dogs and all my worldly goods in a 12×8 trailer? No problem! The challenge of no cell service for two of those days and only two gas stations between Interior Alaska and Washington border- bring it on! Having only hope and prayer that I will be able to get a job when I arrive? Child’s play!

However, the dryer I intended to replace in 11 days doesn’t work? Call the shrink and get me an emergency appointment. 

Trying not to question my life choices right now. However, if I cannot keep a washer and dryer alive for more than a year, shouldn’t I have adult supervision at all times?

It seems like the list of things to do keeps growing every day, not shrinking.

I still have 1139 more window sills to clean. 3562 mosquitoes that have decided to make my house their home need to die. 116 more books need to be packed. My very expensive fake Christmas tree still needs to be decided- does it go into my trailer and consume valuable space, or does it get sold to a deserving family for the very low price of ‘just come pick it up, please?’ Do I love my pots and pans, which are a collection of different sets from the past ten years, or do I ditch them all and buy a set that doesn’t peel in the dishwasher?

After selling my lawn mower, I realized I needed to mow my lawn… which has become a bit of a problem.

My parents said I could pre-stage household items in their garage that I am ordering from Amazon. I haven’t had the heart to tell them that I ordered a full living room set with a couch, loveseat, lazy chair, T.V. stand, an upgraded bed for my youngest, and an outdoor living area. Do you think they will notice?

The goal was to have everything disposed of and thrown away by the end of today. I’m fortifying myself with two pots of coffee, Advil, and a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge. Wish me luck!