The Anatomy of My Noodle.

We all could have called that I wouldn't really keep up with this. Meh. So this one will just be quick but poignant.

Every so often in my life, and possibly yours as well, there comes a fleeting moment of clarity. For the lucky, this moment can be about something dramatic or life-altering. For the unlucky (or stupid) the moment goes by unnoticed. Today I fell in between both categories.
My Pops and his girlfriend decided to take off to the mountains for the week, so I'm left to defend the castle. Good thing for me, I have money because they left the fridge completely bare. Seriously, I had crackers and milk for dinner. But my mom and step-dad invited me out for some grubbage at Boulder Station. After eating my fill I came home, slightly naseous from the quality of food, and upon entering the front door, I had my moment of clarity. This moment was more of a self-realizing moment than one of figuring out how things should fall in place. I felt that I had a firm grasp on how my noodle cooks for a few short seconds, and this is how...
1. I open the door slowly
2. First thing I notice is that the TV isn't on, which I usually leave on because silence freaks me out.
3. I took not one step inside before thinking, "Damn, it's kinda warm in here."
4. Hallway light wasn't on.
5. Something just didn't feel right.

I thought all that and a little more the instant I got home. My brain rationalized all this information quickly and told me that the breaker was flipped. So I went and flipped it back. The problem was solved.

It may not seem like much, but the fact that my senses kicked in so quick, my brain processed them, and gave me the answer the problem that my senses told me was wrong is simply amazing to me.