When i lived in Canada, I considered myself to be independent, but looking back, I took things for granted. Sure I could do "most" things myself, but I had family and friends I could call for help and if I couldn't, I could speak the language to find the help I needed.
When I first modes to Germany, I redefined my independence. I found furniture stores, bought furniture in charades, dragged it up 3 flights of stairs and installed it myself. I borrowed a drill and I rocked that drill by installing shelves and pictures into masonry walls.
Hell, I even tackled my dreaded fear of electricity! I'm afraid of very little but toads and electricity are tops. The toads are another story, but the electricity fear comes from treatment involving electric shocks I had as a kid to correct facial paralysis.
After weeks of my "I am woman hear me roar" adventures of setting up house and a new life in a new country, I exhausted myself. I finished everything up and concurred that just because I COULD do it all, I didn't WANT to do it all! So if I was in that position again, I'd hire someone, ask someone or be with someone that could share the load.
Well.... Here I am in Switzerland and nothing's changed. I'm too impatient to find someone and too hesitant to ask someone. The second time around, it wasn't so hard and I didn't have as much to do. I did however, have to face that damn electricity again though!
I went into it feeling confident. I've done this before! Drill, anchor, screw, connect wires and voila! Oh yeah, and turn off the electricity. Should mention that. The first day I tried to install the light, I didn't have electricity yet. The wires wouldn't fit into the light and after endless frustration of trying, I gave up.
Day 2, repeat. Get up on ladder, connect wire, HOLY SHIT, what is that sensation? Oh yeah, 220 volts. Electricity is on. Go to control panel, find fuse that says cucina, repeat, FUCK me, AGAIN!!! Fuse that says cucina, lied. Because of said electric fear, I've avoided being shocked by 110 volts most of my life, but let me tell you, 220 volts is not fun. I thought it could actually kill you so was thankful it didn't!
After my 2 shots of 220 volts, I reconsidered my impatience. I tried to find someone and ask someone with no success. So for a month, that light was taunting me. Because I'm a woman, the light fixture became so much more than just a light fixture. It represented defeat and losing my independence! Was I going to let this fixture win? So, for a month, I've been having an internal battle. Independence vs another potential shot of 220.
Well, today was try 3. Turned of ALL the electricity in the apartment, wiggled with the too short wires and got the god damn fixture up. Went back to fuse box and cringed and I flicked all the fuses back on. And like magic, there was light in my kitchen!!!!
So the score might be 220 volts 2: Katherine:1, but I did get to keep my independence. Reluctantly.
No comments:
Post a Comment