(I wrote this one in about mid July when my fridge busted. It took nearly a month to get it replaced. Ah Botswana. Thank God it was winter then, as my gas just went out while I was gone over the weekend and the sight and smell of my fridge full of rotten food in the summer brought me to tears.)
In order to combat increasingly declining sense of accomplishment (I wrote this a while ago…) I have ceremoniously decided (upon of course the recent suicide of my refrigerator) that in fact all of my combined household appliances, as well as several of my electrical gadgets have an unspoken vendetta against me. I am currently unable to deny that these appliances will no longer be satisfied with successfully ensuring my madness, but rather are trying to completely eliminate me as a resident of my hut (perhaps they have formed an alliance with the mice and lizards life insurance co-operative). This new framework through which to view my appliances and living conditions allows me to believe that my lack of prowess in most matters domestic is indeed not my fault.
My fridge has been making idle threats for months, or actually since I’ve had it, and finally chose today (as of course, the day when I have recently returned from Maun through a relatively painless 6 hour ride with transport nearly the entire way, which for the non-hitching in Sub-Saharan Africa layman means that I was completely and totally weighed down with perishable groceries because I had the means to get them here in a reasonable amount of time) and being completely full to die.
My oven is in on the death pact, and has decided it’s not only the appliances in the house but also its human inhabitant that must perish. It chooses to ensure this by f*$#ing up every item resembling food (It even went a step further and destroyed the butter knife I had accidentally left in a pan of toasting bread the other morning- I am so not a morning person….) that touches it. I know this little bastard is planning on me actually starving myself by becoming so fed up with the under and simultaneously overcooked item of food I bring forth from its fiery bowels that I give up on myself.
At current I have gone through 2 cameras being completely wrecked by dust, and the third is making a funny noise when I turn it on. The first ipod I brought with me has died, and I’ve gone through two mini speakers. The solio solar charger has died a long time back, and I’m on my third cell phone and have broken at least two chargers thus far in my tenure.
I can assure you it’s not that I’m not taking care of these things. All of my electronics have their own little plastic bags that they live in, with all of their corresponding chargers and adaptors and accessories (it took Africa to descend on me but by God I might emerge slightly closer to organized!). I guess that the lessons on wants versus needs will just keep coming and by the end of this I’ll surely be able to deal with anything;-)
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