I do way too much shit like that where I’ll realise that I’ve put my life in the hands of something really dumb halfway through doing it. The amount of times I’ve realised that the only thing saving me from a debilitating injury is a haphazard pile of clutter, or that I’m relying on the traction of the amorphous cable monster on my workbench, and that if it slips, I could get electrocuted. Not to mention stuff on ladders.

But then, I’m not a scientist, and I know I would *definitely *die if I ever tried planning ahead for anything.