It's like christmas.
I come home from work and there at my feet is a small package.
I swiftly attempt to swipe it up as I pass, but miss and inevitably have to stop and turn back to pick it up, slightly glad no one is around to see.
I take it to the lounge and have a seat.
The dog jumps in my face and I can't quite see what the hell I'm doing but I manage to tear open the packaging to reveal, at long last, the humbucker, volume knobs, pots and strap buttons I ordered, god knows when, ago!
Excited, I run to grab the guitar.
The pots don't fit the hole!
It's fine, I'll just go grab a drill bit and widen the hole. No fuss!
I run back upstairs and hunt for a good half an hour but cannot find one big enough!
Back downstairs my eyes dart to the chair I left the potentiometers on.
She's lucky I love that little hair ball!
I dive, hit the floor and slide under the coffee table.
I manage to grab it as she is now more shocked by the site of a grown man flying through the air than to bother chewing things.
But to what end?
I still can't fit it without the drill bit, so I'm back to square one.
I suppose I'll have to spend tomorrow building the shed instead.