fridge death


I had these grand plans of posting some glorious pictures today of my vacation in Maine.

But then life happened.

I got home from work yesterday and had all these plans for mac and cheese. I was going to put on some sweatpants, get in the corner of my couch, and edit pictures. All whilst shoving Kraft Mac & Cheese in my face. I might not even put it in a bowl. Bowl? Meet crook of my arm. Now be friends.

So, I got home. I wanted sweatpants so bad that I turned on the air conditioning just to make it happen. I assembled an outfit that said, “I’m not expecting visitors” and proceeded to settle in for hours of tv entertainment and pictures. With cheesy noodles. Then, I opened my fridge and was overcome by the most terrible smell. I’d put it akin to rotting carcasses … and that’s pretty much what was happening except with vegetables, condiments, lemon curd, ice coffee, etc. You do not want to know what a cucumber looks like after a week in a hot fridge in a plastic bag. Spoiler alert? It essentially liquefies.

The long and the short of it is that….
  • My fridge is not dead. Just that specific outlet  is now dead. I’m not sure what this means except now I apparently need to unplug my fridge if I want to use my microwave. I probably won’t be doing much microwaving
  • I had a bottle of seltzer in my fridge that expired in 2009. I’m not joking. How does one even buy something like this? No wonder if felt flat for my gin and tonic last week.
  • Mold grows in some super weird patterns on tomatoes

The only thing that seemed to make it out alive where some cans of Coke, unopened salad dressing and garlic cloves. I tossed the garlic cloves because I figured the death smell probably permeated these suckers some how and I don’t want my next batch of pesto to smell like fridge death.

I used to have one of those fridges where you could just whip things up… now I’m starting from scratch. Maybe I should just have a cocktail party and invite people to bring their favorite condiment as a housewarming gift?

Oh, and that package of chicken breasts I had in my freezer? It might have been the worst discovery of all.
I hope you never come home to a death fridge ever.

P.S. this is the outfit I was wearing during the entire event. It pains me to say that I lost a pound of bacon as well, but at least I had already decided I hated that kind. Small wins.

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