The washer died. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. Our circa 1970's industrial size washer has died from too many khaki pants. I now have a pile of half soapy, mostly wet clothes on my floor. The wonderful days of washing machine eden are now over. I will now have to *gulp* use a laundromat until we decide on what to do. The S.O. suggests that we should put off purchasing a new one until after the big move (if I get into a Ph.D. program). I think we should purchase mini-me versions of our previous washer and dryer (and that they should come in some type of neutral color aside from polyester yellow). In either case, it looks like I'll be taking some laundry home for the holidays. Mom and Dad, here I come!
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