Planned Obsolence

Brrrrr!

In an effort to boost the economy, another appliance in the home of the SJG has decided to head off into the sunset.  Tomorrow, the fridge moves to an elder care facility full of all the other appliances that have said Screw You, SJG in the past six months.  (You know how I take these things personally.)  The water heater, the dishwasher, the washer and the dryer.  All of them gave a shrug and decided it had been a good 10, 10.5 years, that was enough. They'd done their job (more or less).  Time to go off and play golf, start a book club, do a little sunning, enjoy a mid-afternoon cocktail.  They each went out in a special way, picking just the right moment to bid adieu.  From the water heater came scary gurgling and  icky sediment.  From the dishwasher, a Thanksgiving flood.  From the washer and dryer, dramatic thump-thump-thumping, followed by an eerie silence.  From the fridge, a snarky refusal to self-defrost.  My days of stabbing the freezer with a knife ended in college.  You can't make me go back there.  To that action, I say, na-uh.  So today, while others go about their post-Carmatic lives, the SJG will look deep into the soon-to-be former refriggy, and ponder the many unidentifiable items, the crusted up baggies in the freezer than might be a chicken breast, or a Western bagel left over from Mother's Day.  Today I will vow to start fresh tomorrow, to keep my shiny new appliance well-stocked and highly-organized.  It is my dream to become anal retentive, to alphabetize every product in my new fridge and to scold those who eff with my brilliant system.  "What is wrong with you?  The cream cheese goes after the butter!  Who put the mustard in front of the milk?" This is going to be fun.  I can hardly wait to start ranting.