Well I went about by day and then had a nap, and it’s been hours since I cursed at the innards of the ice maker. It’s not made any ice. Perhaps I didn’t poke at the thing and curse it enough. Perhaps I didn’t bang on just the right spot. It’s possible I didn’t leave the door open long enough to thaw out whatever might be frozen in the areas I can’t actually access. Maybe it’s just actually finally died.
The husband has asked what I’m going to do about it. First, I’m going to sit in my recliner, drink a glass of ice water, and be extremely cranky. I might even play a video game while I contemplate my existence on the Tree of Woe.