Broke

I enjoy baking.  This is not news.  An important tool (the most important tool, one might argue) is the oven.  It's easy to take the oven for granted, with it being one of the main fixtures of any kitchen.

At least until it stops working.

Last week, while I had a batch of cookies in the oven, I heard an odd click.  When the timer beeped, the cookies were still raw.  I tried resetting the oven, but it didn't do anything.  I checked the burners, but none of them worked either.  I thought it might be a tripped circuit breaker, except that the clock on the oven still worked.  I was left with a batch of pumpkin cookie dough and no way to finish them.

I called and left a message for maintenance, explaining that I needed the oven and stove in order to feed myself.  This was Wednesday of last week and it still wasn't working by Friday, with no word on when it would be repaired.  I called on Friday and talked to an attendant at the front office, who wrote down my information.  I spent the weekend without a working stove and oven.

I stopped by my apartment during my lunch break on Monday and no repairs had been made.  I called yet again, and had to leave another message.  I was certainly feeling neglected and expressed my frustration to Leah.  Without my asking her, she spoke to the office employee and, what do you know, my name was next on the list for repairs.  When I got home from work yesterday, the oven thankfully worked again.

I don't know if all of my calls made a difference or if my name was taken down the first time and no one bothered to tell me.  Either way, I'm glad that I can once again feed myself without having to rely on Hot Pockets and microwavable burritos.