On the list of things that I want to see when I wake up in the morning, items which fall on the side of ‘oh, yes please’ are a distinct lack of anything horked up / shredded / otherwise mauled by cats (two very rambunctious kittens in particular), the coffee maker all set up and ready to go, and enough time for me to whip up some delicious baked goods for breakfast (yesterday I made cinnamon rolls with apple butter and walnut filling, just as an example). High on the side of ‘would really rather live without’ would be finding a great big puddle of water directly in front of the refrigerator. The still fairly new, extremely expensive, built-in-so-it’s-not-like-we-can-just-pull-it-out-from-the-wall refrigerator.

I said some colorful words, rather loudly, and then hollered for Richard. Between the two of us we managed to get most of the water sopped up, and then I rummaged in the drawer and tracked down the user manual and called the support line. In some kind of bizarre twist of the universe, the support person to whom I spoke was actually helpful (likely because it had nothing whatsoever to do with either computers or the phone, since I have become quite convinced that part of the training for support staff for both of those industries is how to be as unhelpful as humanly – or unhumanly, as the case may be – as possible), and she walked me through a list of things to check. In the meantime, Richard sat on the floor and took off the kick-plate so we could take a look underneath; or rather, he tried to take it off, but one of the four screws refused to turn. After I got off the phone, there were a few more of those colorful words being muttered as the two of us prodded and pulled, pounded with hammers, and gouged with screwdrivers, but could not get that screw to budget. I pried the kickplate back as best I could, despite the still-attached and stubborn screw, and was able to at least ascertain that 1) we really need to be vacuuming under there because holy dust bunnies from hell, Batman, 2) the drip pan was not overflowing, and 3) worse yet, the water appeared to be collecting *under* the drip pan, so where the heck was it coming from?

So today Richard stayed home and called around until he could find someone who could come out and take a look, while I went to work and occasionally googled ‘strange leaks from fridge’ just for fun.

The verdict – a leaky hose. Luckily it was covered under warranty. Richard says that the service guys had no trouble at all getting that stupid screw to come out, so all that tugging and prodding was apparently just enough to finally work it loose. I know it wasn’t that we are just weak, because we were both fighting with it, and the reason we eventually stopped was because all we were accomplishing was to begin to strip the screw, but it is still annoying when it takes a stranger to come into your house to do something as idiotic as removing one damn screw.

Anyway. I am now staring fixedly at the floor around the refrigerator every time I walk into the kitchen, just to make sure it doesn’t start to flood again, and finding humor in the fact that this sort of thing is *exactly* why I prefer to can things instead of just freezing them (all my jams and jellies and sauces and pickles would cheerfully survive a flood that might require me to shut off the freezer for an indeterminate amount of time).

And since it is November, and I am doing this silly novel thing, I took advantage of this morning’s excitement and wrote it right into my story. Granted, in my little fictional world the cause is something far more sinister than just a leaky tube, but the point here is that in order to get 50,000 words, I must take advantage of anything that might pop up.

Although, you know, I still think I would prefer putting more mornings involving hot coffee and fresh-from-the-oven baked goods than dysfunctional appliances. Just in case the universe was thinking of trying this sort of thing again.

Nanowrimo progress: 6,742 words, now with exciting Appliance Malfunction Drama. Fun times, fun times.