Who turned out the lights?

Yesterday morning I woke up to find my house eerily quiet and dark. It seems that Mother Nature held to her promise of a wind and rain storm to beat all former storms and YC was without electricity.

It was amusing at first--quiet and surreal, but then it struck me how tied I was to electrical thingys. Couldn't call on my land line, couldn't use my computer, couldn't watch TV, or a movie, or listen to my stereo, or turn on a light in a shadowy corner to do some task, and the weather was whipping off tree branches, pieces of roof, loose anything, etc., so going outside was not a good option unless I wanted to take a chance on re-enacting the guillotine scenes from Tale of Two Cities, which I did not.

I worked on a writing project--proofreading a printed copy I had on hand. I read magazines until there weren't any. I thought about cleaning the house, but then my sanity returned. I took a nap since I hadn't slept well the night before with the howling winds and rain sounds on my windows. I ate breakfast--remembering not to violate the breach of my refrigerator door more than once in order to preserve the temperature inside. I ate dinner--my stove is gas and doesn't need an electronic ignition to work. I washed dishes because my water heater is also gas fired with no ignition feature (I discovered this morning that washing dishes by candlelight may feel "romantic" in the doing, but it definitely leaves a lot to be desired in the hygiene department). I read for a few hours using my "Itty Bitty Booklight" until I thought I was sufficiently tired and could fall asleep. And I thought rude thoughts about our power company and how long it was taking them to restore the electrical service that I needed in order to be entertained. It took 24 hours to have my power back on, and I was definitely turning into a cranky person as I woke up frequently last night checking to see if my clock showed any signs of life. It didn't until about 6:30AM.

So today I'll be able to do all the things that I didn't do yesterday as soon as my back decides to stop spasming. I am currently doing an excellent imitation of Quasi Modo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame (what's with this French literature theme?) as I hobble through my house. Bending over brings the spasms on. Sitting down just plain hurts. Standing up, I do an imitation of a spaghetti noodle cooked to perfection. If I lie on my bed, it's less painful, but the getting out of part is both comical and excruciating. Maybe I'm just the embodiment of the drama mask--part funny and part tragic. Who knows why my back decided to declare its independence and be a pain in the you-know-what, but eventually, with enough Advil and heat, I should be normal again--whatever that is...