The Sky Is Falling

One of the drawbacks to living in the Los Angeles area is living in a small apartment. We've raised our bed to find a place for the tent, sleeping bags, and luggage and wedged in our closets are boxes of books, but the kitchen is the most painfully small. Unlike some of those apartments south of BYU, our oven is full size (not Barbie size, or in other words big enough for just one narrow cookie sheet placed lengthwise). And we do have a dishwasher that works fairly well, but the lack of counter space and my extravagant collection of appliances (like a toaster and a mixer) have forced me to make use of the top of the refrigerator. Up there I've placed the iron, the quesadilla maker (maybe that is a bit extravagant for the size of our apartment), and my flour and sugar containers. The arrangement is further complicated by the fact that there is also a cabinet up there where I keep a couple casserole dishes. So, whenever I need one of those casserole dishes, I have to slide everything over to one side and towards the edge of the fridge in order to open the cabinet. And all too often I forget to move everything back away from the edge, leaving the iron or the eight pounds of flour right on top of the freezer door. Then the next time I open the freezer door, whatever I've left there falls through the newly created gap. Today I almost dropped the flour, but lucky for the people downstairs, just as it was passing by the freezer, I was able to get my finger between it and the refrigerator door, breaking the fall (and possibly my finger), and giving me enough time to grab the container with my other hand. Now I've got a hematoma on my finger to remind me to be more careful. My reflexes are getting faster but it's only a matter of time before the iron lands on my bare foot.