The good news is, the dryer spontaneously started working again a few days ago.
At the expense, apparently, of the fridge, arguably a much more critical and expensive appliance, which is now grinding itself into a fit over maintaining the proper temperature. And just in time, since Julie and Eugene will be here in less than a week. And the cocktail party in just over a week. And - oh, God - the 16 pounds of chicken Raph lugged home from Safeway last night because it was on sale and we go through chicken like, well, people who eat a lot of chicken.
And the ice cream.
When we moved in, the gods of kitchen appliances granted us a reprieve from having to fork it over for a fridge. Some friends and neighbors of ours conveniently had an extra one sitting on their patio, loaded up with meat and beer. But She wanted the patio back, so after an exchange of a few dollars, He and Raph attached it to some sort of wheely contraption and walked it down the street to our house one afternoon and it ran like a dream up until two days ago.
What is it about major appliances that they have to go bad just before the Big Events? Is it their job? They can't just be responsible household citizens?
Why can't the appliance gods in their infinite wisdom just take the dryer after all? Is this some karmic retribution for...I don't know. I don't know what it's for. The chicken? Do I consume too much chicken? Should I give up chicken? Can anyone tell me?
In the Great Scheme, I guess this is not a big deal. I have my health, after all. I have a home and a boyfriend and a puppy and wildflowers in the backyard. I have plenty of chicken. And two kinds of ice cream.
And I have, of course, a functioning dryer.