Admittedly it was bought five years ago and has done sterling service since. I want it to work again. It's not so much that I think that microwaves are the bee's knees of cookery - I certainly don't: they're great for a few things, handy for some others, and useless or worse for the rest - just that I've learned the knack of doing rice, pasta and couscous in it, and it's the only cooking device I own that has a timer. On bad back days, I know that I can set the timer, the stuff will cook for so long and no longer, and if I don't manage to make it downstairs again at least the place isn't going to burn down around my ears, like I might have managed to do with that chili I mentioned a few days ago.
And, you know, before we bought it I wouldn't have had one in the house, having a mother who does all the wrong things with microwaves (no, I don't mean babies, kittens or glow-discharging grapes, I mean cakes that come out corpsewhite and have to be dyed brown to look as though they've been 'baked', and, you know, all the usual microwave crimes) and having been revolted thereby. It was only a temporary expedient until we'd actually bought a stove, just something to heat noodles with while we were moving in and buying household stuff, which is why we bought a cheap little reconditioned thing.
Now I really miss my microwave, reconditioned, low-powered and all that. *sniff*