Underqualified
This afternoon, I recharged the big battery. The Titan. Not out of need, or obligation, given that it was already at 95%. Rather, I wanted to see (sic) if I could do the task, all on my own. The last time was about six months back, and I’ve had a certain devolution since.
Happily, the designer did things according to the rules. Connectors are unique, polarized and placed where I could find them. Muscle memory, after a fashion. The return to full charge took about fifteen minutes, which gives me the urge to try my metrology skills. I could determine states of charge/discharge, and report it (to myself) with graphs and observations. Like a scientist.
Did I mention that I was once a science teacher? So many occupations, in one lifetime. There is a cohort that learned all they know about saturation of a solid in a liquid (sugar in water). And how to ignite and extingush various forms of controlled combustion (candles and Bunsen burners). The realization that I could have been responsible for uncontrolled conflagrations should keep us all awake at night. Remember, this was a job that I was wholly unprepared to hold. Flogging a couple of courses in sociology into a role as a lab teacher; someone had to be there. Spoiler: my real job was to pprevent the lab weigh scales being diverted to the street retail side of the local economy.
Npw that the Titan is charged (I could have gone solar, but I opted for grid electricity. Unwilling to get too creative, on a day where my only real hope was to welcome Mr. Propane. And he never arrived.
