I pushed, shoved and wiggled for fifteen minutes before I got the damned thing to slip out of its compartment between its sister and the wall. The doorframe, protruding from the wall by a silly inch, didn’t help.
Yet the worst came later; a screwdriver wouldn’t do the trick. I walked to the hardware store and shopped for the required nut driver – a “drive me nuts”, really.
I finally took apart the dysfunctional thing, clean its insides up and screw it back.
Ah, the satisfaction when it worked properly!
Nothing says “I’m an independent woman” like fixing your own dryer.
This story was written based on this prompt.