There’s nothing quite like the sudden and total failure of your refridgerator to lend
some entirely unwelcome insight into certain aspects of your own character.
How embarrassing. A fridge full of condiments and no food.
(n.b. there actually was a fair bit of food in it; that which was salvagable is now sitting in a box in my back yard, hoping that the new fridge shows up before either the temperature goes above freezing again or the local neighborhood critters discover it. But obviously the condiment collection is long overdue for some purging. Oh well, at least for once it’s an appliance failure that is officially the landlord’s problem, financially.)