Okay, picture a light fitting against a wall. Light fitting is sleek and elegant, a flat dome that sits flush against the wall. Light bulb blows and must be changed. In order to change lightbulb, sleek and elegant light fitting must be removed. In order to remove light fitting from wall, one must loosen the securing screw - situated in a 1cm wide gap, just big enough to fit a screwdriver or a desperate fingernail. In order to see securing screw situated in 1cm wide gap, one would have to place one's face flush against the wall and squint.
Now...
Shift your perspective and picture this light fitting, not against a wall, but against a ceiling. Please take a moment to think about the logistics. Flush against the ceiling, it is impossible to get your face flush against the light fitting. Unless you happen to be 3m tall - or standing on the back of a 300-year-old Galapagos tortoise. I am not and I was not. Ergo, I could not see the fucking screw.
Now...
Take a moment to picture me attempting to get to the lightbulb. Bare in mind that I don't know what I'm looking for in the first place... should it be twisted off? Should I just hang on it and pull? Stretching, on tiptoes, on the giant four-poster bed in our spareroom, I can only barely get my fingers to the light joint. Using my extensive knowledge of Braille, I establish that there is a screw that should probably be loosened.
Okay.
Still on toe-tips, I use my left hand to locate the screw and try to establish (with the earlier mentioned desperate fingernail) which way the screw driver should be inserted in order to actually connect with the groove. Right hand moves in on the operation. This is bit more difficult because my blind skills do not extend to using screwdrivers. Scratch screwdriver on metal and glass while trying to find the screw. *SCCCREEEECH!* Grils... like nails down a chalkboard. Slot screwdriver in screw! Yes! Make half a rotation, screwdriver slips out, scratches against metal and glass. Fuck. Repeat. Half a revolution, slip, scratch. Fuck. Repeat.
Keep in mind... while right arm is struggling to unscrew; left arm is holding light fitting as it slowly loosens. Both are directly above my head. My precious brain is desperately praying that my arms have got enough cordination to not mash myself to death with a sleek, elegant and fucking-stupidly-designed light fitting.
Eventually...
Glass dome loosens enough to come away from the ceiling. Holy fuck. What a mission. The room is now blue with my sweat and swearing - and it was all I could do to not smash the fucking thing on the floor in a moment of Greek celebration.
I've changed the lightbulb, but haven't put the glass cover back on. I think I'll leave that for when Mills gets home... let's see how many expletive combinations HE can come up with.
Enough bitching from me. Let's look at what everyone is bitching about in Jozi:
This picture courtesy of my father - apparently taken on or around the N1 in Joburg yesterday morning. To paraphrase a friend, it looks colder than a witch's tit in north-facing igloo. Nasty.
Now...
Shift your perspective and picture this light fitting, not against a wall, but against a ceiling. Please take a moment to think about the logistics. Flush against the ceiling, it is impossible to get your face flush against the light fitting. Unless you happen to be 3m tall - or standing on the back of a 300-year-old Galapagos tortoise. I am not and I was not. Ergo, I could not see the fucking screw.
Now...
Take a moment to picture me attempting to get to the lightbulb. Bare in mind that I don't know what I'm looking for in the first place... should it be twisted off? Should I just hang on it and pull? Stretching, on tiptoes, on the giant four-poster bed in our spareroom, I can only barely get my fingers to the light joint. Using my extensive knowledge of Braille, I establish that there is a screw that should probably be loosened.
Okay.
Still on toe-tips, I use my left hand to locate the screw and try to establish (with the earlier mentioned desperate fingernail) which way the screw driver should be inserted in order to actually connect with the groove. Right hand moves in on the operation. This is bit more difficult because my blind skills do not extend to using screwdrivers. Scratch screwdriver on metal and glass while trying to find the screw. *SCCCREEEECH!* Grils... like nails down a chalkboard. Slot screwdriver in screw! Yes! Make half a rotation, screwdriver slips out, scratches against metal and glass. Fuck. Repeat. Half a revolution, slip, scratch. Fuck. Repeat.
Keep in mind... while right arm is struggling to unscrew; left arm is holding light fitting as it slowly loosens. Both are directly above my head. My precious brain is desperately praying that my arms have got enough cordination to not mash myself to death with a sleek, elegant and fucking-stupidly-designed light fitting.
Eventually...
Glass dome loosens enough to come away from the ceiling. Holy fuck. What a mission. The room is now blue with my sweat and swearing - and it was all I could do to not smash the fucking thing on the floor in a moment of Greek celebration.
I've changed the lightbulb, but haven't put the glass cover back on. I think I'll leave that for when Mills gets home... let's see how many expletive combinations HE can come up with.
Enough bitching from me. Let's look at what everyone is bitching about in Jozi:
This picture courtesy of my father - apparently taken on or around the N1 in Joburg yesterday morning. To paraphrase a friend, it looks colder than a witch's tit in north-facing igloo. Nasty.
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8 comments:
Ja, I don't change lightbulbs. I am too short. I just move desk lamps into the room as substitutes. Luckily I don't cook either, so the kitchen being lit in such a way for a month last year never posed a problem.
haha Champs... I can imagine you having a slight problem! But tall or not, it's a flipping stupid design. I mean, what's wrong with simply making it a twist-off? That's what clever people do. In truth, I don't blame the designer. I blame the person who actually bought the stupid things - our 6ft something landlord. Bastard guy.
What, you don't have a Galapagos tortoise??
Next time, just call the landlord.
Rev - I want one, I really do! (A Galapagos tortoise, not a landlord). I'd also like a pet panda, but they're not as easy to stand on around the house.
Heh, well right now, everyone in South Africa has Blue Tits...
Little flying migrant bastards are everywhere!
Hahah...everyone in SA has blue tits because it's so fucking cold!!
Do you get thermal bras???
hiya koeks. It's colder than eskimo pussy here ;P
stop whining. you're all lucky motherfuckers.
46 degrees here, humidity at around 1000%
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