This morning, as I was about to spring out of bed in order to start yet another very long day of writing, and writerly tasks, I turned to look at the clock. And the clock blacked out. I thought it was me, at first. Sleep has been elusive of late, and I’ve resorted to sleepy pills (shhh, don’t talk too loud around the rest of them–you’ll wake them up!) And of course, this means a groggy, slow to speed kind of morning. So, maybe the clock didn’t go out. Maybe we all just blinked at the same time.
Ah, but no. In fact not only had the bedroom clock gone out, but every clock in the house except for the one powered by batteries hanging on the kitchen wall. And I couldn’t see that one, because it was dark.
Yeah, power outage. One of the first things that occurs to me if I can’t get to my computer, and get some work done is this: Well, since I can’t write anyway, how about if I pop some corn and watch a movie. (Yeah, I even think that way that early in the morning.). Of course then my mean-kid-from-down-the-block-voice says nyah, nyah, can’t pop corn! Can’t watch TV. No POWER, idiot!
I’m spoiled. I no longer have a typewriter. Since I type more than I write, my handwriting is so bad I was actually—this is true!—asked if I was a doctor by a nurse when I had to sign for a prescription one day. There’s no way I can write longhand and expect to make out more than a few words a day or so later.
I’m spoiled. I need light to work. I need my computer, and my connection to the Internet to get the job done. One big EMP explosion and I’m killed, cooked and served.
To quote Edward G. Robinson from the rather scary movie, Soylent Green, “How did we come to this?”
Food in the freezer would start to go bad. If you had a gas stove and had matches you might be able to cook some of the perishable things, but then what? Feast time?
I’m spoiled. If it weren’t for the battery-powered radio I keep in the bathroom so I can listen to the news when I shower, I wouldn’t have been able to check to see how wide the outage was.
If I’d remembered to charge up my cell phone, I could have called the power company to see what to expect. But of course since it was my whole neighborhood that went dark—I went outside and checked—and who knows how great an idea was afflicted, the wait on the phone would have probably eaten the remaining charge. My phone charge doesn’t last as long as an old-style one-function cell-phone. See, I have one of those new phones that does 127 things besides being a phone, including downloading TV shows. It doesn’t make popcorn, though.
I’m spoiled. I want all of my services—services? No, my divine right to power, heat, cold to store food, electrons to inform and educate me, and my Internet connection so I can tell you how spoiled I am. Oh, by the way, I got a new cable modem installed yesterday. It has a battery, so, while I couldn’t get this computer going, I still had Internet connection. I just couldn’t SEE it.
Gahhh! It did it again. Another power outage. Dark screen! Dark screen! I hate it.
I have no idea how much of this post I lost. Ever notice, though, how the writing you lose, the ideas you forget, are somehow so much better than the ones you don’t lose?
Well enough of this. This is only a little about writing. Mostly it’s about being annoyed, frustrated, and impotent in the face of a power failure.
I guess it’s true. I’m spoiled.