Well, That Sucks

As of late all electronics hate me. I am, essentially, Powder. (Man I love a good topical reference, what's up 1995?) But, all appliances? Have exploded. It's fairly rad. And by rad I mean excuse me whilst I go rock back and forth in a corner.

Yesterday started out ok. When suddenly the trusty space heater I keep in my office started smoking. SMOKING. Then as I ran around in small circles panicking about inevitability of me burning down the entire office, it stopped. Then it started blowing out ice cold air. So while it was good that it had not say, burst into flames, it was bad as my office did not need any more of the cold. You see, my particular office is located in some other dimension where it is permanently 20 degrees. People refuse to come in for meetings without a parka and this little space heater was the only thing keeping me from hypothermia. I contend this is just the universe's way of telling me to start drinking on the job. You know, for warmth purposes.

So that was minor appliance number one. Number two? The fridge. This morning I woke up and blindly shuffled into the kitchen in search of my gluten free frozen waffles (mmm... cardboard-y and tasteless, sign me up). I opened the freezer and it was fine. Then I opened the fridge and it was pitch black and around 80 degrees. Who doesn't love a raging case of salmonella? Huh? Just me? Then I would not recommend coming to my house and dining on the vast array of groceries I had just purchased as they are all now a smidgen warm. Tepid milk anyone? I don't know what is wrong with said fridge but I do know now it can not be repaired by cursing or arm flailing. I will however try that again later when I go home as it's just stupid to only try a method once. Then I will play taps on my bugle (read: drink vodka while humming) and buy a new fridge.

In short, do not invite me over as your appliances will explode and also, I do not like this week. Now excuse me, I need to go hide under my desk. It's my safe place.