What is it like to live in a new house? It's disorienting, for one. Now, where did I put the salad bowl? And the Q-tips, and the hammer, and the Tupperware lids, and my underwear, and everything else for that matter.
And why don't any of the light switches I flick ever turn on the light I want? Here's me at the light switch: Flick. "Oh, gosh darn." Flick "Dang! Not that one either." Flick, "Damn it! #*!! Who the hell designed the switches in this house, anyway, a medieval labyrinth nut? A dyslexic monkey?"
We've been here two weeks and I still haven't found the lights on the garage. If I don't find them soon, I'm hunting down that monkey and making him explain his work. It couldn't possibly be that I'm a slow learner, could it?