I live alone.
I don’t heat up family-size Stouffers lasagna trays in my
microwave for 20-minutes at a time. (Seriously people, gross....sodium, fake meat, shall I go on?).
I don’t exclusively use it to “cook”. Thanks to the Williams Sonoma catalog, I do get spontaneous bursts of inspiration to actually cook with expensive utensils and dishes. My concoctions may taste like disgusting messes of a pile of ingredients, but I do attempt to utilize the oven and stove.
I didn’t throw a hot dog in there and zap it into a piece of
un-edible leather. Don't get me started on hotdogs...another tragic invention of disgusting meat by-product.
The microwave is less than 5 years old.
I’ve hit the wall of “Holy
heck, home ownership is often tragic.
Why don’t people warn new homeowners of such a thing?!”
I feel like I’m living in a tent in the midst of an African
prairie with no access to electricity.
Perhaps my analogy is a wee bit exaggerated, but my microwave CRAPPED OUT folks, and in today’s
world, that’s like ordering a burger and not the fries. It just doesn’t happen.
Who do you call to rectify such a problem? Is there such a person as Mr. Microwave Repair Guy?
I mean, I can stand a cold shower if my hot water tank were
to fail. But what’s a girl to do when
her coffee needs to be zapped? Or how do
you melt your 3PM snack of cheese on Triscuits without a microwave?
