To: Ash
From: Crecente

After successfully wiring and hanging a new eight-bulb light above our entrance way over the weekend I become convinced that I am, in fact, an electrician. I became so convinced that today I decided to run out today and pick up a new wall dimmer switch for that fancy new light hanging over our front door. It's like dawn when you turn the friggin thing on and I was afraid we'd never use it.

I turned off the power to the switch, quickly removed the old one, cut wires, screwed shit in, moved stuff around and voila, new dimmer light switch. As always, after turning the breaker back on, I cautioned my wife to stand back, like ten feet black, lest my bad wiring job leads to an explodey head and she gets great quantities of blood, and just a dash of grey matter on her shoes.

I gritted my teeth and flicked the switch. There was a loud pop and a puff of smoke. Bad news: I fucked up the switch. Good news: I'm writing this and my wife's shoes are still clean.

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