Where Bad Things Happen

Kitchens are supposed to be where lovely things happen – where food happens. I love food, but I do not love my kitchen. I am fairly inept at cooking, I’ve got the baking thing pretty much down pat, and I’m terrible at doing the dishes.

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Said dishes.

To most people I have a cute, small, slightly Dr. Who themed kitchen. To most people it looks like the counter could be replaced, and there is a tad bit of renovation that could happen, but the appliances are very nice.

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Here’s my slightly Dr. Who theme going on.

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A painting my friend Beau created. I thought it matched nicely with all the little blue things I have.

But that is not the case my friends. That is not the case at all. For this week, my kitchen, became… MY WORST NIGHTMARE.

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Monday and Tuesday were normal days concerning all of my kitchen interactions. Tuesday night, I got some frozen chicken out of my freezer to thaw out in my fridge. 

Wednesday morning I grabbed my crock pot from the cupboard, I was going to cook the chicken in it, with alfredo sauce, all day when I was at work so I could have chicken alfredo for dinner. I noticed that the crock pot smelled a little funny. The outside looked fine, but I thought “Better wash it out again just in case.” That is when terror struck. You see, as with most crock pots, the area where you cook your food is ceramic and covered in a glaze and can be pulled out of the basin so you can wash it. Most of these crock pots, mine included, have an unfinished ceramic bottom – a part of the pot that isn’t covered with glaze – a “soft ceramic bottom.” Apparently the last time I put my crock pot away (about 2 weeks ago) I hadn’t dried the bottom properly. So when I pulled the crock out to wash it, much to my surprise – THE ENTIRE BOTTOM WAS COVERED IN BLACK MOLD. I REPEAT. COVERED. IN. BLACK. MOLD.


MOLD. (This mold had grown for so long that it had tiny stems and puffy spores like terrifying mold flowers.)


So being my naturally calm and collected self I FREAKED THE CRAP OUT. I yelled, I hobbled and jumped around whilst holding this heavy ceramic crock… And then it dropped a little and I spread a ton of BLACK MOLD onto my shirt. 


Lord help me, I was a mess. I immediately took my shirt and my pajama shorts off, threw them into steaming hot water in the tub and scrubbed them with soap. I then ran back to the kitchen (in just my bra and underwear) and start to clorox EVERYTHING. I cloroxed the crock, the basin, the lid, the counter, my arms, my stomach, my hands, the crock again, the basin again, the lid again, the counter again, my arms again, my stomach again, and my hands again (at this point I was just proud of the fact that I didn’t have a panic attack and just burnt the house down). 

But then looking at the clock I see that it’s 8:47am and I need to be to work by 9am. So I rushed around getting ready… And then all day at work all I could think about was the fact that there had been MOLD IN MY KITCHEN AND THERE COULD STILL BE MORE AND IT’S GOING TO KILL ME. To say I was tense at work is an understatement. When i got home I cloroxed everything AGAIN. And then washed everything with soap and hot water and put the bag with all the moldy cloroxed wipes and rags and paper towels in another bag and threw that on my porch to wait till garbage day. Then I ate cereal for dinner and searched my whole apartment the rest of the night for more mold.

Thursday morning I washed the crock again and then decided it would be safe to make my chicken alfredo. I opened my fridge to discover that the chicken that had been still mostly frozen on Wednesday, was now all the way thawed and that the bag the chicken was in… HAD A HOLE IN IT. There was RAW CHICKEN JUICE all over the bottom shelf of my fridge, and it had leaked into both the crisper and fresh fruit drawers, and underneath those drawers, and in the crevices behind those drawers. 

I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. I just put the chicken in the crockpot with the sauce, pretended I didn’t see the RAW CHICKEN JUICE all over my fridge, and I got ready for work since I was already short on time. And then I thought about raw chicken juice all day long at work. When I got home I opened the fridge, sat on the floor, and cleaned and cloroxed it for about 20 minutes. I still wonder if I got all of it. I then ate chicken alfredo for dinner.

Friday was uneventful in the kitchen, it was also trash day, so the mold and raw chicken juice clean ups were disposed of.

Saturday (today) I woke up after a fairly good sleep and when to the kitchen to start making breakfast. I was going to make my usual non-work day breakfast: 2 eggs – slightly runny, and 2 pieces of toast. I got all of my ingredients ready, heated the pan up, cracked my first egg… And almost threw up. The egg did not look like an egg. The egg WHITE was BROWN, the egg YOLK was GREEN, and the stench that started coming from the FRYING ROTTEN EGG IN MY PAN permeated my entire kitchen. I immediately freaked out. I grabbed the pan from the burner (left the gas burner on because I’m a genius) and ran around the kitchen yelling “I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO EWWWWWWW!” I finally decided that it couldn’t just go into the garbage, so I threw it in a small plastic shopping bag… But the pan was still hot… So when the pan touched the plastic bag it melted. And then my apartment smelled like rotten egg and burnt plastic. I now had a slightly melted bag with a half fried rotten egg in it, so what did I do? I put it in the freezer because I live alone and no one ever told me what to do in this situation!

I can’t wait to see what happens tomorrow… It better not be anything bad with my Keurig… That thing is my angel.

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This is the best thing invented of all time and I love it more than any other appliance ever.