I am doing my once-a-year hosting of my women's writing group on Friday. It is also a potluck and some friends will bring salads that will need to go in the fridge. Therefore, my fridge must be far cleaner than usual. I dug out the crisper drawers and cleaned the crumbs and gunk from the nooks and crannies underneath. I washed down the shelves and sides, stretching and grunting with gusto. Then there were all the plastic racks on the inside of the doors with gobs of dried-on ketchup, chocolate syrup and more unidentifiable crud. (Thank goodness I can't smell!)
At least it's self defrosting so I didn't have to defrost the darn thing. Back in the 70's, cleaning the fridge meant I had to take everything out of the fridge and freezer, put pans of boiling water in the freezer to melt the several inches of ice, scrape and sop up melt water til it was clean and dry and then get everything back inside before it spoiled.
So anyway, the unglamorous job is done for another year.