Defrosting one's freezer is not a difficult enterprise. It's an archaic one.

Today's freezers are frost-free, but I live in New York in a building with shoddy wiring, layers of lead paint, and here's something that reminds me of home in the tropics - the occasional flying cockroach.

So I don't have frost-free anything. The only appliance in the apartment that's not almost my age is the microwave I bought myself. Also, my kitchen is tiny, so all my appliances are miniature versions of the real thing. The real frost-free thing. This, I assure you, is par for the course. It's not just my crappy apartment.

On Thursday, I was at work thinking about what I'd do when I went home. I'd have to wait around downtown for awhile if I opted for yoga. Then an epiphany: What if I stayed home and defrosted the freezer? In its current state, I could store little more than a pint of ice cream and two frozen bags of cranberries. After careful research, I figured out what I'd do and started brainstorming frozen grocery items to buy at Trader Joe's when I finally upped my freezer storage capacity.

Most people manage to unplug the refrigerator after removing perishables, sit pretty, and happen upon a defrosted freezer. (Of course, sometimes there's flooding). If they're really hardcore, they might expedite the process with a blowdryer. These options weren't for me. For one, my refrigerator fits so snugly into the space between the wall and the sink that to try to move it to unplug it would mean being trapped in the kitchen. And while the refrigerator is a runt of an appliance, it's too heavy for me to move myself. Note to self: Next time, maybe do this with backup.

It looked like this endeavor would take a lot more time than I'd anticapted. It did, but I dare say it made success even sweeter. The flower that blooms in adversity is the most beautiful of all, guys. I think I lifted that from Mulan.

How I Defrosted My Godforsaken Refrigerator:

First, I assembled some tools, including a plastic cup for ice scooping and a hammer for chipping away at the tundra. You'll notice the hammer is pretty petite itself. That's because I'm committed to working on my half-assed apartment with half-assed tools from Ikea.

I got the two pots I own and boiled water. I intended to place one pot at a time in the freezer until it would be possible to fit something extravagantly large, like a box of Bagel Bites.

I kept the freezer door open while the boiling water was working its magic. Ever the multi-tasker, I hammered and showered myself with ice chips. Can you believe how frosty the freezer was? I felt like Sir Ernest Shackleton.

Progress was exhilarating. Mind you, I spent hours working on this project. It was a very long, exhausting high.

Ignore the frostbitten fingers. The ancient chunks of ice coming out of the refrigerator were huge. We're talking Clinton administration chunks here. I squealed with glee as each one fell.

I wondered, "What mischievous things could I do with all this ice?" I thought about performing a science experiment to see how long undisturbed ice would last in my freezing kitchen. In the end, I used the faucet to melt holes into the larger pieces. Then I rinsed all the other chunks down the drain.

Voila! The finished product. Yep, that's about how much I keep in my refrigerator/freezer at any given time. Currently, there are two cartons of raspberries and six frozen food items that have been added to this paltry collection.