No Soup for You

It’s that time of the day when I saunter towards the refrigerator and grab my lean cuisine microwavable lunch delicacy. I open the box up, slit the plastic, and prepare to nuke the shit out of my lunch. I set the timer and press ‘Cook’

No response.

I reset the timer. I press harder on the buttons. Five…Zero…Zero…Cook. Still nothing.

I unplug this monstrosity of a microwave. Repeat the same steps and reach the same result. I gaze longingly at my food wishing for a miracle bolt of 1.21 Jigawatts to cook the flash frozen chicken to edible temperatures of goodness.

I refuse to break my stare at the innards of this microwave. Hoping. Waiting. Wishing.

A minute or two goes by until I realize that I have not closed the microwave door.