Our dishwasher waited until my husband was out of town to stop working. I verified this by slamming it shut repeatedly and mashing all the buttons. It still didn't work. Nice. My husband handles the repairs around here. It doesn't make me a bad feminist to admit that. I'm just not mechanically inclined. I once revealed this to my husband in a shockingly idiotic discussion about voltage by asking if maybe you could just charge something twice to get more voltage. I know. He thought that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard, too. Again, not mechanically inclined. I'm okay with it.
I've been putting off calling a repairman for two days now. First, because it was a holiday weekend. Second, because I sound like a moron every time I have to deal with a repairman. The previously cited voltage stupidity being a fine example of what I'm capable of. Despite putting off the call, I'm actually praying the thing can be fixed. The only thing more pathetic than me talking to a repairman is me picking out a new dishwasher by myself. I'm guessing "cute" isn't an important selection consideration.