playing chicken with my fridge

So my fridge quit on me over the weekend. I'd been hearing some funny (odd) clicking last week, but didn't notice any decrease in cooling power (though perhaps the first sign of impending kaput-dom was that the paper wrapping protecting some cheese was a tiny bit soggy rather than crisp). In any case, I left the apartment on Friday and upon my late-Saturday evening return (so late on Saturday it was nearly Sunday, the day I was going to get up early to go canoeing*), I discovered that everything in my fridge was a) damp and b) thawed/soft/lukewarm. Boo. Frantic trashing/cleaning then ensued along with diligent candle-lighting, to prevent my place from smelling like a toxic sludge. I also turned the fridge off (to save power I suppose), but N.B. that's apparently not the thing to do, since it hampers problem-diagnosis once the repair guy arrives.

The fridge has since been repaired, but I was told that there's a chance it will still fritz out again (depending on if the replaced part was the actual problem or just a secondary problem). So while it's kind of nice to have a clean start with the fridge, I'm hesitant to act on my desire to fill it up with yummy foods for fear that it will have another malfunction that precipitates tossing the food out. Or I should just adopt European shopping habits: develop a robust pantry and then buy fresh stuff for each day's evening meal. This tack would, of course, be a bit simpler once the grocery store that is a 5-minute walk from my place opens up. Does kind of wreck my plans for making a big pot of chili though (recipes for vegetarian chili are still welcome!).

*side note: I still went canoeing (Kickapoo, Salt Fork... I think). The weather was grand, no one fell in, I managed not to totally screw up the steering, and we took a fairly leisurely run down the river. It was a lovely way to spend one of the last warm days of the year - and there's been mention made of attempting a canoeing+camping run at some point in the spring. Last time I went camping I was 17, accompanied by four girlfriends, had just completed the last of my high school finals, and used some of my calc notes for kindling to build the fire. Did I mention that once night fell, I was scared out of my mind that we'd be attacked by humans or non-humans or whatever it was rustling in the nearby bushes? Sleep is indeed a difficult thing when one is vulnerable and petrified.