Filthy Entry

So the garage is cleaned. Well, not cleaned, but some of the contents have been removed, and other contents have been shifted about. I couldn't believe the filth that had collected in some of the hidden spots behind stacks of boxes. Where did that stuff come from? There was fuzz in it! It's as though the dryer had for years been secretly hiding a horde of lint in places it thought I'd never look. I hadn't even been aware that the dryer was resentful toward me for taking the lint from its filter and discarding it. I'd have though the dryer would be grateful that I was keeping its filter clean!

Now I feel deceived and betrayed by an appliance. What next? If I move my refrigerator will I find a stash of old eggs beneath it? Has my oven filled the wall cavity behind it with grease and burnt sweet potato drippings? What appliance can I trust? I don't dare sleep lest my television turn itself on and invade my subconscious. I fear that I might be forced to rid myself of all my technological devices, before it is too late and I am entirely in their power. I'll have to make an exception for the vacuum cleaner, though. All that fuzz in the garage isn't going to suck itself up.