Toasting futility

The crappy toaster that I inherited from my last roommate still toasts things just fine, but its spring mechanism is broken. If you want to toast anything in it, you have to stand there and hold the thing down. Sometimes I used to use this bottle of vodka we had sitting around to hold it down, but that was donated to someone's party once, I think.

I also have, in my kitchen, only one electrical outlet that isn't occupied by the refrigerator, which I have to use for both my microwave and my toaster and anything else I might want to plug in. Almost always the toaster is plugged in; I try not to microwave things. But recently I did.

Just now, I stood in my kitchen holding down the thing on the toaster in a futile effort to make myself some toast. I did this for probably a whole minute or two before I realized that the toaster was not plugged in.

I wish I had a word for the feeling that this caused me to experience.