microwaves are hard


Lesson-y type things are being steadily accumulated at my new place of employment, Equity Corporate Housing.

Like: Microwaves are hard. They are confusing; misleading. Frightening, terrifying things happen inside of them, like explosions and systematic ruinings of American meals. Calls and emails are placed in made out of the sheer terror of the instrument.

What is it? How does it work? Why does it work? Is it mad at me? May I boil milk inside of it?  

Yes, the tenant, you may. With caution. Fear not, Bekah, QAC hopeful, is here to help. I want to think that the ‘Q’ is Quality, or perhaps ‘Quiet,’ and I think the C might insinuate Consultant, or Caretaker/Caregiver/Cupcake person with Keys to most Manhattan buildings. Fear not. Towels will be folded and stacked, the crucial Vegetable Peeler in place. I am so on it.


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