We're starting Day 6 of having a broken dishwasher at the house.

Its not like I haven't tried to get it fixed. Saturday, when I determined that the water that refused to drain from the basin of the machine was not caused by the food chunk catcher being plugged (I regularly keep it clean). There was a more sinister problem in the bowels of this beast.

Owing to the fact that we have a spiffy Swedish appliance, there are only certain appliance repair guys that will touch it - two in Calgary, to be exact. Being suspicious of the reliability of service companies, I booked both of them to come out. On Monday, the first one called to say that one of their technicians had a heart attack Sunday night and that I wouldn't get my visit until Friday. The second one showed up the next day but neglected to call beforehand. He found it quite rude that I hadn't stayed home all day to wait for him. I'm sure he left in a huff, even though I had provided him with my cell phone number when I made the appointment. Company Number One should be back tomorrow, barring any more myocardial infarctions.

Anyhow, I am getting tired of doing dishes by hand, all without the help of a drying rack. Its hard to believe that I lived in a house that had no dishwasher for three years.