Sometimes I Worry About My Sanity

I know I’ve been spending too many nights on the computer writing. The fact that it’s after midnight now says a lot. Not that I got much done tonight.

I started off with great intentions. In fact, I started off doing well. But then I freaked out. I was right in the middle of an exciting scene when the sudden urge to clean the house hit me.

I got going on that and when it came to doing the floor the vacuum cleaner aka ‘The Monster’ refused to switch on. A quick troubleshooting mission revealed the live wire had pulled out of the plug. Oh dear!

Not that this should have presented a major problem, but it was my first time rewiring a British plug and thus my first encounter with a fuse šŸ˜®

Half a box of Irish Cream Liqueurs later, I sat on the floor, cut the end off the wire, stripped it down so it was all nice and neat and proceeded to put the plug back on.

Now, I know it was right. Fuses aside, I’ve rewired many a plug in my time, but such was my lack of faith in my ability that I ended up vacuuming the carpet in a pair of green wellington boots that someone left at the house months ago.

I mean, come on. Did I really think I was going to electrocute myself? I got as far as the kitchen and realised how absolutely ridiculous I must look hobbling about the house in a pair of green rubber boots three sizes too small. That’s when it occurred to me that I probably need more sleep.

So, I’m going to close my Open Office document, finish up the liqueur chocolates and go to bed. Maybe tomorrow I will seem a little less crazy. I doubt it somehow.