Before zapping my lukewarm java to an acceptable temp for caffeine transfer to my blood stream, I noticed a rust spot on the microwave door.
“That’s not good,” Mike commented when I pointed it out to him.
When Mike who never worried about anything said, “That’s not good” to me who always worried about everything, the effect was immediate. I needed to know the amount of worry required to solve the current problem. Research would verify if a rusty microwave warranted a sleepless night or a passing disturbing thought.
A Googled “rusty microwave dangerous” search secured a bazillion results. (I knew whatever I found would be true because I read it on the Internet.)
I didn’t review all bazillion entries, but read enough to give “sleepless night” an edge over “passing disturbing thought”.
A quick analysis of how a microwave oven worked helped me understand the problem. The metal box of the oven corralled the electromagnetic waves. Apparently the bouncing microwaves that heated my coffee might careen through the rust spot and fry my nearby flesh. To quote Mike, “That’s not good.”
Luckily no gaping hole had developed. A DIY (Do It Yourself) site recommended sanding off the rust and repainting the area. That would halt rust from eating though the metal. (It also advised to dry the condensation inside the oven after every use. I never took time to do that.)
Special microwave cavity paint was needed. The Rust-oleum in the garage wouldn’t suffice. Thankfully for Mike the DIY project became the DIH (Do It Himself) project. My part was securing the paint.
Ace Hardware didn’t carry microwave oven cavity paint. I found that irritating.
“We have this,” a clerk suggested handing me something that clearly wasn’t microwave oven cavity paint. “Maybe you can substitute.”
I Googled the brand. Not only could it NOT be used in the microwave interior, it rated 1 star out of 5 for the intended purpose. I relayed the information to the clerk and suggested that they might want to rethink stocking it.
I ordered the paint from a local appliance dealer who mixed up the stock numbers, which resulted in the wrong paint and an unnecessary trip to the store.
“She didn’t know you wanted that kind when she ordered it,” explained the parts manager.
“How can she not know?” I asked. “I clearly requested CAVITY paint.”
After a week I had finally secured the necessary paint to hold off those microwaves. The paint required 24 hours drying time. Twenty-four hours abstinence from microwaving caused more irritation. Cold coffee couldn’t be zapped, frozen steak couldn’t hastily be thawed, and potatoes required actual baking.
I caught myself grumbling that heating tomato basil soup on the stovetop took FOREVER.
An epiphany struck. I’m impatient.
A Googled “becoming more impatient” search secured two bazillion results. (I knew whatever I found would be true because I read it on the Internet.)
I didn’t review all two bazillion entries, but read enough to understand that I was a victim of short telomeres.
Telomeres are the caps on the end of chromosomes that protect DNA. The National University of Singapore conducted a study and concluded that shortened telomeres correlated with impatience. In a follow up study the Karolinska Institute in Sweden suggested that the less time a person spend sitting, the longer their telomeres.
Sitting at my computer must have shortened my telomeres and therefore my patience! That’s why I didn’t take the time to dry the inside of the microwave thereby causing it to rust. Perhaps I could stand at my computer, which would lengthen my telomeres, and consequentially I’d become more patient. Then I’d take the time to dry the microwave after each use and it wouldn’t rust.
I’ll need to do more to increase my patience. I thought about my shortness with the Ace clerk and the parts manager.
To paraphrase Mike, “That wasn’t good.”