Proud Moments in Adulthood: The Light Bulb

I'm not the only one who thinks this looks like a breast, right?

I'm not the only one who thinks this looks like a breast, right?

After waiting a week, I was finally forced to change the light bulb in the ceiling fixture in my room. Now, I had waited so long because I’m about to move, so I relied on a bed-side lamp, figuring it wasn’t my problem anymore, but today I packed the lamp, so I had no choice but to change the bulb. No one was home. I made my roommate change the bulb last time, but it looked easy when he did it.

This picture was photoshopped, but the danger I experienced was 100% genuine.

This picture was photoshopped, but the danger I experienced was 100% genuine.

I stood on a stool, hovering above certain death and the piles of my unsorted clothes. I resorted to yogic breathing and concentration, carefully unscrewing the glass fixture. I replaced the bulb in a second, but the fixture wouldn’t screw back on. I thought about leaving the glass off, waiting for my roommate, but I had something to prove. Finally, I got it to stay in place. “This is really great,” I thought, “a proud moment on my path to adulthood.”

In this situation I would just walk around.

In this situation I would just walk around.

An hour later the glass fell, covering my floor with glass land mines. Still, I thought about leaving the shards on the floor (I was really tired after changing the light bulb). Eventually I cleaned up what I could, but I can’t do a thorough job because I don’t own a vacuum cleaner. I guess the moral of the story is that  part of being an adult is accepting you need help. Whatever.

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