This is not the first time my rage stems from a household appliance. Maybe they sense my aversion to domestic tasks and therefore taunt me even more, I don’t know. But what I do know, there was one night my dishwasher put me over the edge.

Since moving to Orlando, we’ve lived in 2 rental houses. In the first house my nemesis was the refrigerator. It was huge and the door was incredibly hard to open. It was almost as if it was stuck, but it wasn’t. I’d have to put my whole body weight into opening it. The effort I had to put forth often resulted in a grunt reminiscent of Serena Williams hitting a backhand winner, only I was just trying to get some hummus. As if that wasn’t annoying enough, once you closed the door, it wouldn’t let you open it again right away. It would sort of lock for like 5 seconds or so before you could open it again. It was as if it was saying, go away you fat fuck, gain some willpower and lose some of your big ass. That meant if I forgot to get something out of the fridge (which happened all the time) I’d have to wait to open the door and get it which was infuriating. I remember one time, it had been a long, stressful day, and I was just trying to make dinner for my cranky, crying kid. The fridge locked me out, and just as I was yelling, “C’mon you asshole!” my husband walked in. Clearly taken aback, he asked who I was talking to, when I told him the refrigerator I believe there was a brief moment where he considered having me committed. There’s no question throughout the year we lived there I called that refrigerator many names, one favorite being “you useless, crappy cold box of misery!” Committed? No. More therapy? Perhaps.

I spent so much time on the fridge, I’ll keep the dishwasher story brief. Basically, when my dishwasher is done with its cycle it beeps 3 times, very loudly. That’s all fine and good, but it beeps 3 times very loudly I’d say every 2 minutes or so until someone opens the door. Here’s the news, I get that it’s done, you don’t need to beat me over the head with all the beeping, and I’ll unload the damn spoons when I’m good and ready. What set me over the edge the other night was that I ran the dishwasher and then went to bed, just as I find myself dozing off I hear those loud fucking beeps. And then about 2 minutes later I hear them again. And then again. There are only 3 things that will get my out of bed at an undesirable time, if my daughter needs me, if there’s a fire, or if someone were to bring me hot bagel straight out of the oven from H&H bagels on the upper west side of NYC. Come to think of it, I could eat the bagel in bed, so we’re back down to my kid and a fire. Anyway, the fact that I had to wake up, go downstairs to open the damn door of the dishwasher was preposterous. To the person behind the dishwasher technology…WTF??? You are the douchebag of the day.