...or maybe you should call me the Typhoid Mary of Electrical Systems and High-Speed Cable Modems.
About ten minutes ago, Julie and I were chatting pleasantly when I heard a pop, followed by the overhead light going out, the air conditioner whirring down and the battery-power icon showing up on my laptop. It would appear that a fuse has been blown.
Fortunately, the blown fuse doesn’t manage the juice for the entire apartment (although the fridge is on that circuit, which means no extraneous opening of the fridge); there is another working air conditioner in Julie and G’s bedroom, and the apartment is still nice and bright and cool.
Still, though. Julie and G did me a solid, and I returned the favor by breaking their apartment. And even after I did that, Julie still a) insisted that I didn’t do it, and b) made me a scrambled egg sandwich and a big iced coffee for breakfast. The woman is amazing, I’m telling you.
(Go, Bunni! Go, Sam! Go, Eric! Go, Skyte! Go, ‘thonners all! Woohoo!)