rm | I can do stuff!

So I come home, and the light blows in the kitchen with a pop loud enough that I sort of duck. When I go to turn on the living room light, it's out.

I go out to buy lightbulbs. Change the lightbulbs. Turn on the lights. No lights.

And this time, because I learned my lesson of last time, I thought, "I'll check the fuse box!" and ahah was able to get the lights back on without having to stand in the grocery store for an hour muttering "Richard would not be felled by lightbulbs" because I thought that I had somehow managed to buy broken lightbulbs three times in a row (see, see what I was like before Patty? Very bad at the bachelor lifestyle. Now I can hold things down while she's off being Indiana Jones).

I know this doesn't seem like an accomplishment to you all, but it was a moment of nice, amused sensibleness for me.

That said, the labels scrawled on the inside of the fusebox are, in fact, wrong, and I should do something about that at some point.