Setting Up the House

After a few days of endless bore broken only by the books I have devoured feverishly, I decided to purchase a new television and DVD player. The television, after being miraculously heaved through the teeming masses to get to my very, very far-away apartment, refused to work. It could play DVDs, and it would allow me to play my videogames, but it stubbornly refused to give me any basic cable. We fought for a few days before I threw in the towel. I only recently went to the store where I purchased it and was informed that I have to program the TV. What is this madness?

But the TV is hardly my only robotic arch nemesis here. Yesterday the washing machine and I had a bitter duel. After a very long study of its front panel, with 30 buttons, dials, and knobs, I cracked the code and got it to turn on. Upon finishing, however, it locked my clean clothes inside and refused to let them go. I kicked and screamed. Worse still, I could see my clean clothes, my shirts pressed up against the glass like multicolored hostages. I turned the washing machine off and sat in defeated silence for a few minutes. Reluctantly, the machine made a CLICK and set the hostages free.

Now if I could only figure out the gas oven.