You know how every light in your house seems to burn out all at once? Someone told me it can happen when you have big electrical storms, (which we've had quite a few of recently) and I'm not sure how much I buy that theory, but almost every lightbulb in my apartment blew out this last week. So I had to change them, or risk being homicidal-psycho-jungle-cat-ed in the dark just trying to make it out the door in the evening.
The first one I had to change was in the kitchen. There aren't any chairs in the house except for the desk chairs we all have, so I grabbed mine and rolled it out to the kitchen. You maybe think you can see where this is headed: I climbed on, lightbulb in hand, spun wildly around, flew off, banged my head on the washing machine, and woke up 34 hours later in a bloody heap. No. ALMOST, though. I managed to hold my act together long enough to get the lightbulb in, and then switched on the light to admire my handywork.
I bought more lightbulbs the next night so I could complete my project, and I started with the one at the top of the stairs. The very long set of stairs. The very long, all wooden, no padding, no railing, set of stairs. Again, I wheeled my chair out. I think I may even have started to climb on when I realized, Hey, this? This is not your best idea. Last night did not kill you. This will.
So I hunted around for something I could stand on and found a folding camp chair in our living room. (Don't ask.) (Mostly because there's no one around here for me to ask, and I certainly have no answer for you.) I brought that out and had to set it riiight on the edge of the stairs. And then stood on it. And balanced oh-so-carefully. Then the cat came around to watch me, which reeally freaked me out, because if he decided to be in a pouncy mood, I'd be a goner, and he most certainly would not survive murdering me in my own household. I'm certain I have friends who would avenge that death. (Even if he's not responsible, kittylicious will take all responsibility for my death, and really for most awful things that happen in that place. Katie Grumblecakes has left for the summer - probably for Utah, suckers.)
Well. And I survived! And then it was the bathroom's turn. So I brought the chair in there and had to figure out how to dismantle the glass light fixture that has been burned out since, oh, last September, and realized that it unscrews! How nifty! Except when it unscrews and falls to the floor, and I have visions of it shattering into thirteen trillion tiny little shards all over the bathroom floor, leaving me marooned on top of a blue camp chair, able only to lap up the small bits of water I can reach from the sink faucet until someone finally thinks to come rescue me. Which thankfully did not happen. It just kinda cluncked, and I picked it up. Huh.
And then some more lightbulbs, and I almost had so many things fall on me, and I almost fell off so many times, and I think my legs were shaking a lot from adrenaline, but that wore off so now I'm not quite sure.
But I'm really appreciating being able to turn on a light.
Labels: Daily
