I'm not exactly sure when or why I became the Goddess of Random Equipment Malfunctions. I think it was largely a matter of "It's a dirty job, but Someone has to do it."
Or not do it, as the case may be. If I have any divine power at all, that power consists largely of finding things to be in charge of that don't actually need My help.
Exhibit #1: The Vernal Equinox, but only in the Northern hemisphere. Essentially all I have to do is a ceremonial "Ta-Dah!" whenever a northbound sun crosses the equator, and then get back to playing Minesweeper or whatever the heck I was doing the moment before the Equinox.
Exhibit #2: Chocolate. Chocolate happens, whether or not I'm there to buy it, eat it, cook with it, or wax poetic about it.
Exhibit #3: Punctuation. This is mostly under control, thanks to wonderful books like The Elements of Style (Strunk & White) and Eats, Shoots and Leaves (Lynne Truss).
Now, about those random equipment malfunctions...
It's appropriate that I drive a car with an intermittent trunk latch release lever and a digital dashboard clock that only shows the time near the end of a really, really long drive.
Speaking of clocks, the digital clock on My microwave is apparently conducting some sort of relativity experiment in cahoots with the cable TV box and the stove, because it consistently sneaks a minute or two ahead of them no matter how often I adjust it.
My tenure on Earth is noteworthy for devices spontaneously breaking or un-breaking for no apparent reason, and sometimes for no reason at all. I've had elevators stop and wait for Me when I called out "Wait wait wait!" Street lights blink out just as I'm driving underneath them. I've sweet-talked a photocopier into giving Me copies when everyone else thought it was broken. I once walked into a computer lab, and the computer I had come to fix started working the moment I appeared in the doorway. Coffee machines jam. Printers catch fire. Ovens regard the control panel as some sort of choose-your-own-adventure book, baking the cake at 214°F instead of 325°F.
I also get a feeling of impending doom every time I get a new day job, pay raise or other financial windfall. That's the cue for a whole wave of Random Equipment Malfunctions as moribund machinery and ancient appliances seize the opportunity to demand divine intervention. January 1989 was particularly bad, costing Me a water heater element and a pump for the washing machine. I managed to fix the toaster for free, by giving it a good cleaning and bending a lever back into place, but it was a close one.
No, I have no clue how this works. I'm not omniscient. I do, however, know exactly where My toolbox is at all times.