Last night I was awoken by the deafening sound of silence. It took me a moment to figure out what was going on. Was I dead? Was I in some super calm sleep and still needed to wake up? Or did I mysteriously go deaf in the middle of the night? When I was coherent enough to be sane, I realized that the power went out. We were having a normal albeit crazy Midwestern thunderstorm with so much lightening it could put a dance club to shame.
Therefore, I wasn’t too shocked. But because last night was the first time I turned the air on in my new place, I worried that I blew a fuse. I do love my apartment something fierce, but the old girl, well she isn’t the newest building on the block. When I moved the little switch to “cool on” it made a noise similar to that of a propeller airplane. The noise didn’t bother me because at the time I was so hot and sticky, I could listen to nails on a chalkboard just as long as I was cool.
But there in the dark and the silence, my addled-middle-of-the-night-mind went on overdrive. Did I really blow a fuse? If so, how was I going to fix that? Or perhaps this was some bad guy who knocked my breaker and was about to attack? Did the power company choose ME to shut the power off as a psychological experiment?
Realizing it could be any and ALL of the above, I somehow summoned the courage to go downstairs and find my cell. All the way down the dark steps I muttering to myself “thisissoscarythisissoscarythisissoscary…”
You really don’t realize how much you rely on power until you have none. Profound huh? But really, with no nightlights, no light on the microwave clock or DVD player. Just dark. And then there’s the silence. That’s the worst part of a black out for me. No nice hum of the fridge, the computer or a fans. If I ever get caught by the enemy in the middle of war (which could TOTALLY HAPPEN) in order to torture me, just give me a room with NO SOUND AT ALL.
Anyway, since I was Super Woman and wouldn’t let my boy upstairs die in a blackout (again, could TOTALLY happen) I found my cell and called the electric company. No, not the one that used to be after Sesame Street, but wouldn’t THAT be cool?
After telling them I had no power and giving this lady who was very pleasant for 2:30am, my address I immediately asked, “Am I the ONLY one in this area to lose power!?” She literally laughed at me and said “No. There are many calls coming in…”
As much as I wanted to wake up Ben and have his company during this momentous occasion, I reminded myself that I am in fact his mother, and not his roommate or big sister and therefore I could check on the boy (with my make shift cell phone flashlight) but then I had to take myself, and the now total lack of drama, back to bed.
When the power came back on an hour later, I truly have never been so happy to hear the roar of Bessie (that’s the name I have given my central air) and the breeze from the fan in my face.
I have also made a solemn vow to never be late on my utility bill!
