My appliances hate me.
I have documented my adversarial relationships with some of our major household appliances over the course of the last year or two in this blog. So it should come as no surprise to you that our dishwasher has decided to act up today.
I went to load it to find that there was a couple of gallons of water sitting in the bottom, which must have been left from the last wash a few days ago. As a test I ran it, and found that the several gallons of water quickly became many gallons of water.
The SOB is not draining.
So I spent an hour fighting with it today, scooping out the water, then taking off the pump cover and the filter cover and futzing around. But I gave up when I banged my head, and — cursing LOUDLY this time — then tried running it again.
The hose is going to have to come off and see if it’s clogged. But I don’t know if I want to tackle it today. I don’t know if I am strong enough, not to remove it, but to fasten it back on the sink pipes securely. So that may be a job for BDH.
God how I HATE my dishwasher. And, because I think they are in cahoots, I’m highly suspicious of my water softener as well. Not that it’s responsible. I know that. But I somehow suspect they’ve been plotting behind my back.
Now, my trusty microwave? That baby has been running for well over 15 years. And we get along famously. Also, my fridge and stove are also in my good books.
But that dishwasher? It is a BASTARD dishwasher.
I will beat on that dishwasher. But not now. Now I must try to get into a good mood by doing some yoga, for I have a Christmas party to go to this evening.
But tomorrow… it’s ON, bastard dishwasher.