My microwave died yesterday.
That thing has been with me for ten years through undergrad, grad school, and beyond. She was a good microwave. Lots of memories and stuff. The best memory is the origin story.
Back in 2007, I decided to live off campus in a house with four other people. One girl brought a microwave that she tried to pass off as new (maybe in like '92). I used the microwave a lot and that "new" microwave was basically a useless brick with no wattage. My parents ended up buying a nice 1000 watt microwave for the house. Initially the girl who owned the crappy microwave didn't say anything but after some time I found out through her blog postings that she was seething with offense that I had gotten a new microwave for the house. I thought that was hilarious. Of all the things to take personal offense over, she chose that, a working microwave. Over that year, the other roommates and I would learn how unhinged that girl was through many more instances of strange and frequently quarrelsome behavior.
Rest in Peace, Microwave
(I took advantage of Amazon Prime Day to get a new one.)