Being of the me-me-me generation, I've fully come to take for granted the simple things in life. Little things like electricity.
My husband (the wise and wonderful engineer that he is), decided to replace the light switches that were caked in paint with some lovely ivory ones. Horray. All went well down the hallway; splendid, really.
But Jesu Cristo, mang.
We have a panel with three switches in the dining room. One controls the light over the steps to downstairs, one controls the light to the outside porch, and one controls a random outlet in the room. But they do so much more than that.
Apparently, they control the entire upstairs circuit, sans the bathroom, and one outlet in the bedroom.
The helpful hubby took all three switches off at once, and now, surprise! we can't get them to reconnect the same way, because the wires "aren't labeled. Who doesn't label their wires?" Right then. I don't know who DOES label the wires inside of their walls. Maybe engineers do things differently.
Long story longer, we have had no power upstairs since Saturday. It's almost Tuesday. That's a long effin time to have no power. The downstairs has power, and thankfully, my dad got the hot wat heater circuit to work. So at least we can shower.
The entire downstairs remains lit, but for now, we're Little House on the Prairie Styling our life upstairs. In the dark. And my candles are somewhere, in some box, tucked in the corner of a dark room.
Flashlights for the powerless? Anyone? Anyone?