Vicious cycle

I’m in love.

With my refrigerator.

To be fair, it’s a great refrigerator.

And I’ve had it for 20 years.

Which is longer than both marriages combined.

I mean, this is one reliable refrigerator.

It has integrity.

It does what it says it’s going to do, namely keep things cold.

It never needs maintenance.

It has never broken down.

It has never even been temperamental.

And it doesn’t cheat.

Best husband ever.

Plus it’s not even bad looking.

Like if I were to rate my refrigerator hot or not, I would have to say hot.

Except it’s cold.

And it seals like it keeps Ebola.

In fact, if you close the door and then decide to go back in right away, it won’t open. You actually have to break the seal by opening the freezer door.

So it’s not a refrigerator for the forgetful, the middle-aged, or both.

Namely, me.

But nobody’s perfect.

I bet a lot of people have an appliance they deeply love and/or deeply hate.

It’s a relationship of sorts, after all. You get to know each other very well. You live under the same roof. You prove your behavior over time, or at least until the warranty runs out.

Maybe marriage should have a warranty?

To return to point, if my refrigerator is the Gallant of home appliances, then Goofus is definitely my washing machine.

It’s insanely temperamental, unreliable, and demanding.

You would never marry this washing machine.

Not even I would marry this washing machine, and that’s saying something.

It’s just not husband material.

The main problem is that it’s supersensitive about whether the load is uneven.

If it detects that the load is uneven, it will immediately shut off, no matter where it is in the cycle. This means that you can go up to move your clothes to the dryer and find them sitting in dirty water like laundry stew.

Then you have to stick your hands in the dirty water, swish the clothes around to to distribute them more evenly, then push Start and hope for the best.

Guaranteed, 10 minutes later it will stop again.

I’ve spent entire mornings stirring my laundry.

Risotto takes less patience.

It’s pure luck whether the laundry will be done by the end of the day.

It’s not a washing machine, it’s a slot machine.

If I load something big like a sheet, I basically make a big ring around the nozzle in the center, like a laundry necklace.

That should be good enough, but no.

My washing machine wants a laundry tiara.

Of course the repairman says that’s how it’s supposed to work.

But I object in principle.

What is it with the uneven-load thing?

It’s picky that the load has to be even in the first place.

How much time am I required to spend arranging dirty laundry?

I don’t even like to fold clothes, and they’re clean.

Meanwhile, life is all about uneven loads.

For example, it will be inevitably true that the day you have a deadline at work, your computer will get weird, your kid will spike a fever, your dog will eat a sock, and you will get in a fender bender.

That’s your basic uneven load.

You don’t get to stop.

You don’t get to fold your arms and wait for rescue.

You deal.

You cope.

You keep going until the laundry is washed.

You and me, we try and stay balanced.

And we finish the cycle.

Look for Lisa’s best-selling domestic thriller, “What Happened to the Bennetts,” now in paperback. Lisa’s best-selling historical novel, “Eternal,” and Francesca’s debut novel, “Ghosts of Harvard,” are also in paperback.