The door fell off the fridge this morning.
There I was, late for work, (hey – it’s Friday) putting the milk away, and suddenly the fridge door and two eggs are on the floor.
I can’t really complain about this particular fridge. I bought it in 1994 or so as the cheapest of all available fridges to use in the office. It lived there for a couple of years and then spent five or so years in the garage as a beer fridge; when I got it back it moved with me to a flat for a while and now it’s here.
When it came here I had to turn the fridge door around. Not a problem I thought. See – here are the fitting holes to put the handle on the other side. What I didn’t discover until it was Too Late was that though the door was handed, the the bracketty hinge-thing wasn’t. As a result the door has been a bit precarious ever since. I forgot this and filled it with wine. And eggs. With the results I am typing about now.
So I’m gonna get me a new fridge. For various reasons I won’t bore you with, this is going to involve a significant amount of scuttering around in that corner of the kitchen and a friend taking away the freezer. (What does a single bloke want with a full-size freezer? Pizzas, I suppose). I will end up with a nice new fridge-freezer and a gap under the counter where I can Put Things. What’s not so good is that I think I will find little mousey murder victims when I start moving everything around. We had a crop of flies last week, and there is definitely an Odd Smell in that corner.
Immune systems; use them or lose them.
At least the eggs weren’t off.