I am the definition of detail orientated. Cut once, measure three times. So, when my landlord tells me to turn off the outdoor lights so they can trap the raccoons living in our walls — yes, that’s right — I do it. And then I check that there are no lights on outside. And then I check again.

Some time passes, I have a few glasses of wine, and I notice the lights are on outside. But I don’t remember turning them on.

I am both confused and freaked out.

I’m not that drunk, people.

Either I’ve watched too many episodes of American Horror Story. Or I’m drunk. Or I’m nuts. Or all three.