Okay. I’m sure I can think of grosser stupider moments, but not at this exact second.
Two, three weeks ago, I had to refresh our stock o’ virgin olive oil. Turns out the bottle had a crack, so by the time I got home, the plastic bag had a thin ooze of oil. Great. I grabbed the only bottles we had that I could cap — two empty bottles in the recycling bin — washed them out, poured in the olive oil until the original container’s level was below the crack, capped the bottles back up, and set them in the pantry.
Few days later, there’s conversation about the peculiar-looking bottle of Reisling and Proseccio, and why aren’t they in the wine rack? Ah, they’re now olive oil bottles. Gotcha.
(Can you see where this is going?)
Fast forward to today, wherein I spent about twelve hours total doing battle with the electricity gods, and lo, I was victorious. Go me. Removed the grotesquely ugly chain-and-wire monstrosity in the dining room, added a junction box behind the fridge to bring old switches out from awkward bad placement at corner of dining room, replaced switches, figured out the three-way switch, figured out the double-switch (with a bit of help from CP), had to troubleshoot for about four hours on why they weren’t working, finally figured it out and got it to work, and topped off the evening with a healthy shock when I discovered the outlet I needed to replace was carrying two circuits, one of which was live. Ah, yes, quite a healthy (if fortunately minor) shock, but I prevailed, I conquered that puppy, and now both plugs in the outlet are useable.
So I decide at this point — nearly 330am — I damn well deserve a glass of wine, relax a bit, then go to bed. Hrm, no wine in fridge, I check the wine rack, ahhh, one of my current favorites for Reisling, and I’d completely forgotten I had that bottle. And it’s okay if it’s got an icecube or two in it, so I take the three of the last four icecubes in the freezer, get out a glass, and open the bottle. Peculiar, it barely snapped when I twisted it (although I still say that a non-corked bottle just doesn’t feel like it could be wine, not without that decorkifying ritual), and as I’m pouring it, I’m thinking…
Hunh, maybe someone screwed with it at the grocery store, because that’s the most bizarre…
Oh.
Right.
It’s the olive oil.
*headdesk*
So now I’m relaxing over a slightly-room temperature glass o’ portuguese green wine instead, with the very last ice cube in the house, and thinking that perhaps tomorrow I’ll do something about the pantry. We don’t go through olive oil that fast, and I need to sequester those bottles before I end up going through the entire bottle via glasses of wine… that aren’t.
Seriously: gross.
Tagged: electrical