So, I needed to change a fuse in a secondary fuse box…which means walking out of the house, around the front, and unlocking the cellar door to get into the master box to shut down the main power, because I am not fooling around with electricity if there is a slight chance I can meet my maker sooner than I would like.
ANYWAY. I think, “I could leave the cellar door open. I live in the middle of the country, no neighbors, and there’s no access to the house from here…nothing of value to steal. Make life easier.”
And another part of me thinks, “Do you want to be murdered? Because this is how you get murdered. Someone decides to off you – maybe they’ve wanted to kill you for God knows what reason, or maybe some random guy walking down the road decides this is a great way to off someone so they do it. And NO ONE WOULD KNOW. It is the perfect murder. You walk in carefully, wipe off your prints from the main power switch, and disappear. The traffic on this road is so light the chances of them being seen is NILL.”
Pause. “OK, I guess I’ll lock up on the tiny, tiny, extremely off chance that someone might want to murder me.”
And so I did. And lived to tell the tale.
(And the fuse changing went fine. A little stubborn, but guess who has hot water again?)