So what are you supposed to write about when you have nothing worth writing about?
Some people would make up some gripping fiction. Some might write poetry, letting their fingers type what their heart feels. Still others will simply not write anything, and await their muse's reawakening.
What about me? Well I, apparently, write about my refrigerator.
I noticed a couple of days ago that I was low on ice.
I confirmed that the wire shutoff thingy was free to move.
I noticed later that day that I was even lower on ice. I go through a lot of ice in a day.
I checked the icemaker and there was indeed ice in there, just waiting for the roto-doohickey to dump it into the hopper. I took a piece of ice from the hopper and placed in atop the doohickey.
The next morning, to my dismay, I saw that the ice was still there. The roto-doohickey hadn't dumped that perfectly good ice into the hopper all night long.
So yesterday I went and shelled out $129 for a new icemaker and an extra $50 or so for a new water filter since I was at the parts store anyway.
I managed to install these without drowning or electrocuting myself. This was cause for mild surprise and minor celebration.
By the time I went to bed last night, however, the icemaker hadn't filled with water. I figured that something besides the icemaker had been broken all along.
This morning there was ice in the icemaker, but the hopper didn't seem to have any new ice. I repeated my experiment from Tuesday - I put a piece of ice on top of the roto-doohickey and then I went to work.
When I got home from work, the fucking ice was still there, taunting me from the top of the doohickey.
I was back to exactly where I'd started. The thing was making ice, but it wasn't dumping it into the hopper.
But wait! There's more!
This is a side-by-side fridge. While checking the icemaker today I touched the panel that separates the freezer part from the refrigerator part.
The damn thing is too hot to touch!
So something is seriously wrong with my fridge, and now I'll probably have to shell out another zillion dollars to get it fixed or replaced.
Meanwhile, I have no ice. I feel like a fucking caveman or something. But not one from the Ice Age. They had plenty of ice back then, the lucky bastards.