Does it mean I'm getting senile if I ran the dryer for a full 60 minute cycle with NOTHING IN IT?
In my defense, my habit while doing laundry is to take a load out of the dryer, move the basket (the one that always has those few things that you must was SEPARATELY or they will BLEED on everything else or they are DELICATE and must be washed by fairy wings) that normally sits on the washer over to the top of the dryer, open the washer and put in the next load, close the lid and start said washer, move said SPECIAL basket back on top of washer, and then start the dryer. This system has worked for me lo these many years without a hitch - well, except for a few times when I forgot the "start the dryer" step.
Well, last night I had put a load in the dryer before bed - a load I had washed in the afternoon but forgot to put in the dryer. Okay, well my defense isn't going too well here . . . but let me continue. This morning, when I got ready to do laundry, I took the dry load out, but there was no wet load to put in the dryer, as I had not started another load before bed AFTER I took the forgotten load out and put it in the dryer. I know you are on the edge of your seat here, but just stay with me.
Sooooo, I put a load on to wash this morning, in my usual and time-tested fashion, and then proceeded to start the dryer in the usual said fashion and go about my work. Some time later (about 60 minutes, actually), I heard the little "beep beep beep" signaling that my load was dry. I got up, went to the laundry closet (it's too small to really earn the name "laundry room"), opened the dryer . . . and just stood there staring at it for a good minute, trying to process WHO TOOK MY LAUNDRY? Why is there no freshly dried, sweet-smelling and toasty warm load waiting for me to gather it in my arms, breathe deeply and feel that little surge of joy I weirdly get from my favorite smell in the world? Did I suddenly acquire domestic help of which I was unaware?
Of course, the truth finally dawned on me. I felt pretty silly, to be sure. I continued on with my laundry system, which I swear to you works MOST OF THE TIME, content in the knowledge that this little "incident" had given me fresh fodder for my goal of blogging several times a week.
So to my massive reading audience, though this may not be the most interesting blog I've ever posted, I am a confessional writer and so there you go - every time I do something dumb, if it is fit to print, you'll read it here first. If I remember to write it . . .
P.S. It has been brought to my attention that when I refer to a ". . . sweet smelling, toasty warm load . . . breathe deeply . . . favorite smell in the world" that SOME people with JUNIOR HIGH sensibilities (you know who you are) might MISCONSTRUE the word "load" to refer to a different sort of fragrant, uh, item. So let me be clear - my favorite smell in the world is CLEAN LAUNDRY. (Thanks TT for the heads up!) :-)