In my fantasy world, the one where I get married and we both sell our condos. The one where we buy a fantastic new house–because the combined force of our one bedrooms is something to behold. In that fantasy world, that fantasy house will have no pipes and no water.
I don’t know how we’ll function without water. What we’ll use to make Kool Aid or wash the clothes or brush out teeth. I don’t care, really. Because a house without water is a house without leaks.
The FUCKING washing machine is leaking again. This time a bit more aggresively than two weeks ago. Hey! Stackable, economical washer-dryer. I can’t handle this habit of yours. I know, I know. You were a great selling point and I love to show you off. You are my trophy wife, yes you are. But you have problems, just like all trophy wives.
MAINLY YOU FUCKING LEAK ALL OVER MY FOYER! And it isn’t even a real foyer and it is much less of one when you leak everywhere. Like a drunk boyfriend who pees in the corner–you get pissed at me for making you do TWO WHOLE LOADS OF WATER and decide to LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK all over the place.
Drip, drip.
Drop.
Plop.
dripdripdrip.
PLOP.
I’m just saying, stackable washer/dryer, you have no place in my fantasy life.
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