A bulleted evening, by your truly-
-Came home from work. Ran upstairs to clean the remaining glass.
-Instead of automatically turning on my PC (to check p0rn...I mean email), I decided to do my vaccuuming first. (I'm a thinker. Thought I might blow a fuse)
-Got the glass cleaned up. (Did I mention I have an unnatural fear of broken glass? I hate it. Makes my short hairs cringe)
-Then turned on the fan and my PC.
-Just started in on my emails when I heard a loud BANG! which I thought came from inside the house. The PC and my fan shut off. Then come back on a moment later.
-I get up to start my way downstairs to see if it did, indeed, come from inside. Georgie-kitty meets me in the stairwell.
-"BANG" number two happens. Power goes out completely. Nada. Georgie scramble-frasses into 'Bean's room, schnell.
-Still unconvinced that it didn't come from inside my house, I head down to the basement.
-Oblivious to my own stupidity, I try the lights.
-I stumble-frass to the basement, checking the fuse box. I try flipping the main, splitting my thumbnail in the process. I start bleeding.
-Heading upstairs, I try making a decision as to whether or not it's worth my time to move perishables to the freezer in the interim. I'm convinced, CONVINCED that whatever happened to the power it will self-correct.
-I pour a glass of wine. The one perishible I'm certain will spoil before the situation get's rectified within 5 minutes.
-Still not sure it isn't "just my house", I head outside.
-I see all the other Nordeast prairie dogs heading outside looking bewildered. Baby P breathes a sigh of relief.
-Trying to do my best "Omega Man" impression, I throw my arms up in the air, fall to my knee's, and cry "Noooooooooooo!"
-Cement is not comfortable on the knee's. The Somali family across the street stares and shakes their collective heads.
-Half my wine spilled out of my glass doing that little stunt. Alcohol abuse, right there.
-I text Redwright, Mopes, and the 'Bean furiously to inform them of recent tragic current events.
-Heading inside, happy in my knowledge that it isn't just me, I figure I need to make some decisions. Jog? Nap? Call ExCel? I remember dad saying that ExCel will charge you for even making a phone call. So "No" to that. The torrential downpour that starts up again 86's the joglet.
-Quick phone calls from Redwright and 'Peppa.
-In the kitchen, I stare...sadly...at the Boca burger I was going to have for dinner. I munch chips.
-Following the only logical path in the absence of technology, I go upstairs, grab a book, read, then start to nap.
-Power comes back on 20 minutes after it original shut down. My perishables are safe.
Epic. But it doesn't beat the time last year when that mini-nado swept through the Schwinn Titties...knocking out power overnight. When it was a bajillion degree's in my house. And I pretty much spent the evening "in the buck" with candles everywhere. Cops might have thought I was performing a sacrifice or something.
2 comments:
My aunt told me a story once about the power going out at their house. The first thing my uncle did was open the fridge door and stand there wondering if they should put the food in the cooler. She said, "We wouldn't have to if you didn't stand there with the damn door open!"
Oh, I know that one...last years storm I was bustling bread, ice cream, etc...down stairs. AND the rassin' frassin' mud room started drippin, gawdammit!
I didn't think about standing nude-able in front of the fridge, though...shrinkage.
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