When folks say "Christmas is a magical time", I don't think they had "Refrigerator comes to life and drops door in protest" in mind.
For the past 2 years, my appliances and I have been getting along. I think they're happy that I'm back to drinking coffee. Espresso actually. So Juan Valdez and my house really have nothing on me anymore. Do you hear me, Juan?! Don't come 'round here, or I'll kick your ass. You and your little donkey too.
The bathroom's all prettied up. The dishwasher, washing machine, and garage door opener are happily working away. The garburator and oven still need fixing (a fuse is busted), but they more-or-less do their jobs in non-cranky fashion.
As for the fridge, I try to keep her loaded with delicious healthy things like cruciferous veggies and cottage cheese. Maybe she's pissed that Roomie keeps jamming Coke and other such evil products in her busty innards.
Perhaps HE is the reason why she decided to do this...
So, if she's going to be all weird, bitchy, and door-droppy, could she have at least done it on Roomie's watch instead of mine?
All I was doing was putting groceries away. And NOT sneaking snacks, as my awesome-yet-evil buddy Camille suggested I was REALLY doing to all and sundry on Facebook.
I figured out that the door dropped due to the pin in the hinge falling out. I didn't need to reverse engineer the thing. I didn't have to find the schematics. I just used the miracle of sight. And my brain. And what little logic I'm capable of these days.
No problem. Easy fix... IF I HAD FOUR ARMS!!!
My awesome and generous friend Sue was going to come over to help me put it together, but I didn't want to yell at her, and when any kind of appliance fixing happens in my house, there is a high probably that yelling will occur. And I'd much prefer to yell at Roomie. (Just kidding. I don't yell at Roomie. I just look at him disapprovingly.)
So, since I was going to wait 4+ hours for my dude to come home, my clever friend Antiquark2 (name has been changed to protect the guilty) suggested I channel good ole Red Green and secure a blanket on my fridge with duct tape in the meantime to keep the cool in and the cat out.
Okay, overly-long story short, my he-man came home and fixed the fridge with me.
Like a scene from a bad porno...
"Hello, ma'am, I'm here to fix your fridge."
"It's over here, beside my... bed." Bow-chicka-wah-wah...
No, not really.
Huzzah! Fixed fridge!