It’s my electric personality

Well, today I was playing around with some small electrics and through no fault of my own, got a bit of shock and oh was that a bit painful.  It reminded me of the other times that I have been poked by electricity in my life.

The very first time was when I was helping my friend move out during her divorce.  She had a clock hung over the stove and it was plugged in behind the stove.  No problem, I’m tall; let’s pull out the stove a little bit and I can just reach that plug.

Well, in pulling out the stove that little bit, a little bit of the plug for the stove came out so that there was just a bit of the prongs exposed while the rest stayed in the outlet.  Of course, I had no way of knowing that; I only knew that the plug for that clock was next to the 220 line for the stove.

Something told me not to be touching the stove so I leaned over balancing on my toes and reached behind it.  I felt an awful cold bite on my hand and then there I was sitting in the middle of my friend’s kitchen floor with a horrible taste in my mouth.   My friend was yelling “Are you all right?” and I just sat there looking at her thinking, what the hell just happened?   My hubby at the time came over as soon as she called him and he said it looked like I had hit the plug for the stove, all I know is it scared the hell out of me.  An electrician friend later told me that it was lucky I wasn’t touching the stove and that I didn’t grab onto it fully; we all think my hand didn’t grab it fully which is why I could let go of it.  (I think I make my guardian angels work overtime)

The next time I had a brush with electricity was when I moved into a different house and was painting a bedroom for my daughter.  Wanting to paint the outlet covers separately so that they weren’t painted onto the walls, I took a screw driver and went to pop it off the wall.  Found out the hard way the the previous owner had left some wires bare and close to the edge of the outlet.  Insert screwdriver and suddenly I wasn’t by the wall anymore, but back into the room with flames coming out of the holes for the plug.   Had to have the person helping me run downstairs and throw the circuit breaker, grab a fire extinguisher and put out the flames.   Had to call an electrician friend to come repair that mess.  He marveled that it wasn’t worse and checked all the other outlets and switches for me.

So, from now on this gal is really going to think two or three times before she plays with things that have any electrical impulses.

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