I Fixed My Washing Machine And I Will Never Be The Same
I fixed our washing machine on Tuesday and it was, by far, the most disgusting thing I've ever encountered in my entire life.
The machine wasn't draining, so I went into my default "oh well let's just buy another one because I am too lazy to try to fix it" mode for a couple of days. We looked online and, my goodness, do you have any idea how much washing machines cost? Hint: A lot more than this radio guy can afford.
Suddenly, I had motivation to take the machine apart and fix it. I started with the drain pump, which was located at the bottom of the washer. I propped the machine up on wood blocks, unscrewed the access panel and undid the drain.
The second the water started draining out, I was smacked in the face by the most foul rotten egg-like smell I have ever had the displeasure of having forced up my nasal cavity. Fighting the urge to puke, I held the bucket under the pipe and waited for it to drain.
When the water had subsided to a trickle, I removed the filter from the pipe and I almost fainted from the horrors my previously unstained eyes had seen.
Mold. Clumps of hair (SO MUCH HAIR. WHY SO MUCH HAIR?). Bobby pins. Eight full screws (would have been nice if they fixed this while they were in there). A full-sized screwdriver. An SD card. All wrapped in this toxic smelling slimy black sludge.
After washing my hands in holy water, I put the pump back into the machine and... it worked! But at what cost?
AT. WHAT. COST.