If It Looks Like A Washing Machine, Walks Like A Washing Machine...

I file this entry under be careful what you wish for.

The flat now has a shiny new washing machine - Yay!

The washing machine is haunted - Boo!

Ok, to call it haunted may be putting things a little strongly, but the damnable device has a serious attitude problem. I tend to believe that life is governed by a series of simples rules. Chief amongst these is this basic tenet: when you have to fight to physically restrain a household appliance, something in your life is deeply wrong.

I returned home only a little a while ago, to find the flat empty and the washing machine making contented washing machine noises in the kitchen (I haven't yet ruled out the possibility that the diabolical contraption has eaten the other inhabitants of the flat). A few minutes later the washing machine started making rather less contented noises. Spin cycle, I thought. A few more moments and all hell broke loose. I ran through to the kitchen to find the the accursed thing literally bouncing across the kitchen. I did my best to hold it down whilst I could find the off switch (new washing machine - I haven't mastered the controls yet). In the end I had to sit on it to keep the darned thing still whilst I could figure out how to turn it off.

It's quiet now, but I fear it's only a matter of time before it strikes again.