How dare it?

A few nights ago, my microwave said Tssssphfft! very loudly, and blew its brain. How rude!

These things are supposed to go on working forever, doing their bit at the press of the buttons I’m used to pressing, while I think about God, the universe and how to save the world. They’re not entertaining. They’re not multi-tasking supergizmos that hop off their perch at night and clean the kitchen while I sleep. In fact the model in question didn’t have much of a brain to blow, if I’m honest: a few measly pings, and that was it. But I also know myself well enough to realise that without it to warm the soup and cook the broccoli, I’d likely be dining on vitaweets and vegemite by the end of week, which wouldn’t be clever.

So I’ve just had the dubious pleasure of carrying a new microwave up four flights of stairs.

I say dubious advisedly. I’m pleased I can heat the soup again without the downer of washing a saucepan. I’m grateful I had the space on my credit card to buy it (although books would have been better). But I don’t want to skim through its manual, and I don’t want to acquaint myself with its buttons. And most of all, I’m depressed about the whole carry-it-up-the-stairs bit.

I’ve lived on my own for a long time. I’m used to doing my own heavy lifting, thanks very much, and I’d like to keep it that way. But that microwave was heavy, dammit, and it forced me to wonder how long I can keep it up. When does discretion become the better part of valour, however unappealing? Because going arse-over as I carry the old one down the stairs has no attraction at all.

And besides, it would be a terrible waste. The 60km round trip to buy the microwave had a bonus. I found some chicken sausages!

This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to How dare it?

  1. bkpyett says:

    Glad you managed to get the new microwave up the stairs. What about dropping the old one out the window? Pick up the pieces later…. you did say you were known as the eccentric, didn’t you?
    I hate manuals, and usually find out by doing… but I don’t use a microwave, (apart from at my daughters’ houses). Thinking of alternate living is a scary dilemma. Maybe throwing the microwave out the window will supply free accommodation at the countries expense!

  2. I had the same teasing thought as Barbara – toss it off the balcony.

    • I did think of dragging it down the stairs like a dog on a leash, but torn carpet sounded expensive. I’ve tossed things off the balcony before, as it happens, but the mower man doesn’t like debris chipping his blades. Very picky!

  3. Fran Macilvey says:

    LOL! You could try lowering it to the ground, tied up with some rope. 😉

  4. Relax says:

    Hmm.. you could just hack off the cord on the old microwave, throw an old pillow atop it, cover the whole thing with material and call it an ottoman or window seat or magazine table.. I’m being serious — I had an old dinosaur of a computer tower that weighed as much as I do and was just as awkward, so carrying it out was always a risk I’d save for some stronger day. Meanwhile, I found that with the right covering, its narrowness made a perfect little bedside table in one or another small rooms here — for years, lol. That is either very clever of me, or the epitome of laziness. Helen, maybe the day has come for you to get yourself a little metal moving dolly for transporting things.

  5. Martha Kennedy says:

    Mine died, too.

  6. Martha Kennedy says:

    I use for all my toting needs. They bring whatever it is to my house and sometimes come in and set it up. 🙂

  7. Put your old cookbooks, which you don’t use since you got a microwave, into it. Hand letter a sign to put by the street: FREE COOKBOOK – BOXED AND READY TO GO. JUST CARRY THEM TO YOUR CAR – APT. XX.
    There are always people who want cookbooks who haven’t learned to use a microwave.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s