First of all, I apologize for missing my Monday Moans post yesterday. I was very busy moaning over the fact that my stove broke up with me. I am still processing this loss, and hope that writing will help me grieve properly.
I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t know it was coming. He had been derelict in his cooking for weeks now. Heck, he had even yelled at me multiple times in his nasty, F10 beeping language. I just kept hoping it would get better with time.
Apparently, leaving wasn’t enough for him though. The vindictive piece of crap had no doubt talked with my dryer about his intentions to quit this house. That smooth-talking piece of metal convinced my dryer to leave me too. Well, I hope they find greener scrap yards and rust every day they have left. I hope it rains on them, a lot. Actually, I hope a hurricane of bleach and vinegar settles directly on them. Sorry, that must be the pain talking.
To add insult to injury, on our way to Lowe’s, I made the mistake of telling my husband just what I thought of these traitorous punks. Who did they think they were? They ain’t no better than us! Did I not do my part? There wasn’t a day that their talents were not put to use. (This pain causes me to use double negatives, sorry.) Sure, I was a little slack on keeping them scrubbed clean, but I had to spread my love equally among their other friends. I did the best I could. I am only one person.
The truck was listening. …. the whole time.
We ignored his dimming lights. We had a stove to buy.
Low and behold, Lowe’s had free delivery and haul off, so why wouldn’t we say yes? Would you not have said yes? We had no idea that this clear and present show of disrespect to our pickup truck would be the last straw. If we could only turn back time and have a do-over…….
We barely made it home. He kept dimming his lights for miles….and then he stopped his gauges….then he just bowed up and quit. He didn’t even see fit to groan out a feeble, “How do you like me now?”
Well, piss on all of them. It wasn’t me, it was them. I deserve better than them. We were just at different points in our lives. We needed space.
I will survive this, but I won’t let it go. I will relive it at the end of every month, as I make another payment for their replacements…..at 24.999999% APR. (Do they actually think the six nines offer a marketing landslide over just rounding it up?) Ugh.