I should start with a confession. I love my tumble dryer. There, I said it. There is a small, judgmental part of me that cheers for clotheslines and solar optimism. But the warm-towel part of me wins most mornings.
How I Fell in Love (and Why It’s a Little Embarrassing)
It began on a rainy Tuesday. The sky refused to cooperate and my socks were on their second damp day. A warm towel wrapped around my shoulders felt like a tiny domestic miracle. From that afternoon on, my dryer and I had an arrangement: I give it laundry, it gives me comfort.
My relationship with the dryer is like a bad romance novel—steamy, a little dramatic, and full of excuses. I felt silly admitting it, but small comforts matter. Warm sheets after a long day matter. Dry, non-stinky gym clothes matter. I am not proud. I am honest.
The Dirty Little Secrets (Energy, Lint, and Small Denials)
Let’s not pretend. Clothes dryers use energy. They hum, they spin, and sometimes they shrink the sweater I love most.
Then there is lint. Lint is the visible proof of my devotion. It lives in the trap and occasionally in the corners of my apartment. If lint had a social media account, it would be smug and inexplicably proud.
I won’t give a lecture about kilowatt-hours. Instead: the dryer does fast, reliable work. That convenience has a cost, and my conscience keeps a small tab.
The Rationalizations (Yes, I Make Excuses)
I have reasons. I live in a tiny apartment without a balcony. I work odd hours and can’t wait three days for a favorite shirt to dry. Wet towels left too long smell like mild betrayal. These are not noble reasons. They are human ones.
Once I stopped pretending, I asked better questions. Could I run fewer loads? Lower the heat? Spin more water out in the washer so the dryer has less to do? The goal became practical change instead of perfect virtue.
Tiny Changes That Didn’t Kill My Love Affair
Compromise saved the relationship. I started with small, painless steps. Clean the lint trap after every load—this helps the dryer run more efficiently and reduces a tiny fire risk. Use the eco or low-heat cycle when possible; it often uses less power and still leaves towels cozy. Wait for fuller loads. Use the washer’s highest spin setting so clothes come out drier.
For delicates, call a truce: a drying rack or a short tumble followed by air. Dryer balls cut drying time. Fold clothes right away so they stay soft and avoid rewashing. These changes felt clever, not punitive. They let me keep the comfort I love while nudging down the impact.
Take-away
I am not asking anyone to throw their dryer out the window. Keep the things that make life livable. Tweak a few habits. Run fuller loads. Clean the lint trap. Try an eco cycle now and then.
So yes, I will probably keep my dryer. I will run it smarter, cleaner, and a little less often. I will whisper small apologies to the lint trap and call that progress. After all, progress is about tiny, repeatable acts of care—comfort and conscience, hand in hand.
