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We've discovered that the First Place Winner of the Most Annoying Contractor of 2012 Award (a.k.a. the guy who did our downstairs bathroom) installed the light switch for our bathroom in such a way that the switch often spontaneously flips up, turning the light on for no reason. Like at least once a day.

Aaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhh!

OBVIOUSLY, we aren't going to ask him to fix it. At this point, I never want to see him again. Sad, but true.

Maybe it isn't even something serious enough to need fixing, at least until we have something else an electrician needs to do at the same time. I'm just pretty obsessive about not using electricity unnecessarily, so walking downstairs and seeing the light on in the bathroom when no one's around has been making me stamp my feet and curse. Literally. At first I thought Shannon had developed some strange tendency to turn on the light in the middle of the day and then walk away without turning it off, but that seemed pretty illogical. Instead, it is the lingering ghost of Ting (the contractor), flipping us the bird (in the form of a light switch) over … and over … and over again.

Shannon suggested that maybe the plate around the switch is just placed a bit too high, so that the switch can't completely click into place in the downward position. That sort of thing is something we could fix ourselves. So when I'm feeling more sane, I'll look into it. But not today.


Because today has been a day of badness. I'm losing my mind. I can't form a complete thought. I can't watch more than 10 minutes of tv at a stretch. I tried to listen to a YA fantasy audiobook I'd started yesterday, and found that I couldn't remember pretty much anything … even though this is a book I've read before. I've played a lot of Carcassonne on my iTouch. I've slept some. I've cried some. I sort of lost it in my therapist's office. And then this evening I took a long, hot bath (in the bathtub installed by the First Place Winner of the Most Annoying Contractor of 2012 Award, but I won't hold that against the tub) and used the wonderful, extremely smelly bath salts I bought in a funky store with my mom in St. Augustine (they're smelly enough to make Shannon almost ill if I use them when he's home, so I took advantage of his absence & smelled up the downstairs good and proper). I'm feeling better after the bath, and I do believe I'm going to go paint my toenails some variety of attractive colors. Sometimes silly things help.

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