If my washing machine had a personality before now it was: helpful and dependable, but incontinent (she* leaks water on the floor during every load of laundry). She came with the house, and you can guess how old she is by her lovely avocado-green exterior. She was like a youngish grandmother. Able to do her chores, but with some personal problems that come with old age.
Now she has become a cranky old bat (and I can say that because washing machines don't read blogs). She has developed unreasonable whims that must be catered to if I want my clothes to be cleaned. Now she wants the lid left up when the clothes are washed. If the lid is not up, she refuses to work. Don't ask me why. I have no idea.
Perhaps she is punishing me for kicking her. It happened last week. When I started the cycle, the water just stopped flowing without filling up the tub. Following the idea "if you hit it, it will work," I kicked her. It didn't work. Apparently all it did was make her mad.
For now she has the upper hand since I would like clean clothes. But you can bet I'll be going to the library to look at the Consumer Reports for washing machines in the very near future. Soon it will be time to pull the plug.
*of course washing machines are female. Duh.
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