My New Refrigerator

What a fucking fiasco, something out of the Keystone Cops and / or the theatre of the absurd.

As anyone who follows me on Facebook will know, (and if you don't i'm https://www.facebook.com/richard.messum) (should you care) last Thursday night, i discovered that the freezer compartment of my refrigerator was dead. This was rather a cause for concern, as i had around $100 worth of meat and seafood in there. Unfortunately, it was too late to call my landlord and say, hey.

On Friday morning, i took what i could and stashed it in the big walk-in freezer at my work. The ice cream was a complete write-off, but i saved almost everything else. When i came home from work that afternoon, i called my landlord again, intending (again) to say "hey," but i connected to a vexing message on his answering machine, informing me he'd gone away for the weekend. It's nice for some....

So, for the weekend, it was take-out dinners every night. Can't complain.

On Monday, when i returned home from the shop (a bit late) and called my landlord, he'd gone for the evening. Grrrrrrrr. But Tuesday was my day off and i called him first thing in the morning and he said, he'd try to have a repairman over that day, but added that i really should have called earlier. (!!!)

Well, the repair dude showed up at around three o'clock (as i was in the middle of watching "Skyfall"), checked out the refrigeration situation, and declared it too old to be repaired / not worth repairing / can't get the parts anymore, etc.  He called my landlord and stated, "new fridge required."

It arrived on Wednesday afternoon and here's its picture:

Big, innit! Oh, guess what? It was too big to fit through my kitchen door. So the delivery guys had to take it the long way round, through my living room and my office area and into the kitchen that way. The problem being, though, that although there was plenty of room to move the fridge, a lot of furniture had to be moved in order to accommodate it. And it wasn't on a dolly, it was dragged across the carpet. Awkwardly.

Now, my apartment is fairly large but i've accumulated a lot of stuff over the years. It's crammed full of bookshelves and CD racks. Quite a few of these fell victim to this juggernaut: shelves were knocked over, racks were demolished, etc., and although at least i now had a working refrigerator, i also had books and discs and ogodthepainofit all over the bloody floor. Plus, i'm ashamed to say (fastidious housewife that i am) a fair bit of dirt was revealed.

I've started the clean-up, obviously, but it's such a daunting task: hundreds of CDs that i had alphabetized, now lying around at random. Hundreds of CD-Rs in numerical order, a shambles. Why me?

Oh, well, here's the latest in my CD collection (the letter "B" wasn't particularly turned into a nihilistic splatter by the above):

Well, i used to listen to opera a lot more than i do now, as you may notice from my recent playlist:

Rory Gallagher -- Tattoo
Quicksilver Messenger Service -- Happy Trails
Colin James -- Twenty Five Live
Big Wreck -- The Pleasure And The Greed
King Crimson - Beat

Cheers, ebberybuddy