The day is young so I decide get the laundry out the way for the weekend. With that I gathered all the dirty clothes, tossed them into a basket, and made my way to the laundry room. After loading the washer I reached to turn it on and... nothing. I pressed start again. And again. Then began to look at the settings on the machine to see if anything was different before realizing that in this regard I was helpless.
The thought of calling an electrician or repairman drained the life out of me. Or worse researching and shopping around for a new washer. The mundanity of my life suddenly overwhelmed me. I supposed I could call Dan and have him deal with the problem, it's unlikely he would complain, but also unlikely it would be taken care of quickly. Then a thought struck my head. A new neighbor had moved in about six months ago, and though I had never met him I'd seen him working on his car or carpentry in his garage with the door open. Perhaps he could diagnose the problem and, I thought to herself, it really was bad of me not to have introduced myself after all this time.
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