SHUT UPPP

We've been over the whole "I'm a sucky cook" thing before, so you're probably not surprised to learn that I microwave. Like, a lot. At least two meals a day. To be fair it's not always TV dinners (Hello, Smart Ones quesadillas! Yum!), there are plenty of times when it's yesterday's home-cooked meal (Orrrr last night's takeout leftovers, whatever.) that just needs a quick zap before it's ready to eat. Anyway - I'm familiar with my microwave. Just imagine my surprise when I went to heat up my earlier and - WTF?! - there's a gigantic crack in the plastic, right by the handle. Hoooooly crap, how long has that been there? I'm thinking it's rather new because it's pretty noticeable, but that can't be good, right? And the inside panel (the one with the window) isn't cracked at all, but it still seems totally plausible to me that every time I turn the microwave on crazy scary rays of radiation shoot out of the crack and bounce around my house. To make it even better, it's the kind that is mounted over the stove, so the death rays are on brain-level. Fan-freakin-tastic.

So yeah, not only do I probably glow in the dark and emit small amounts of radiation, Silkwood style (Oh sorry, is that completely wrong to say?), I also get to wander over to the property management office tomorrow and tell them to fix it. Look for the "My Apartment Company Sucks" blog, more than likely coming soon.