Thirty-six hours ago our power went out.

Thirty-four hours ago, we went to bed early, unable to entertain ourselves much without electricity.

Thirty hours ago, our power came on (in the middle of the night) for about 5 minutes.

Twenty-eight hours ago, Joel brought me a cup of coffee from Brooklyn Bagels, suspecting that I would not function very well without one.

Twenty-four hours ago, the fire alarms all went off as their batteries begun to die, driving Halley crazy enough to “jump the gate.”

Eighteen hours ago, the fridge began leaking as it defrosted – I took out the ice in the icemaker to melt in the sink.

Twelve hours ago, we threw open all the windows, hoping that a breeze might carry away all the humid air.

Six hours ago, the water finally ran out as I stood in the previously cold shower covered in shampoo.

Five hours ago, there were still two trees visibly leaning against power lines on my drive away from our house and no sign of a repair crew.

Two hours ago, the power returned, and the fire alarms all went off again, this time upset because their dead batteries had been removed.

One hour ago, I returned to the house, wearing earplugs, after driving to the store to purchase new 9-volt batteries for all the “alarms” that keep us safe (but maybe not sane).

Power has been restored.
The fans once again churn the air.
The water flows through the taps.
Lights illuminate the recently dark spaces.
The iPod and cell phones can be restored to their full charge.
The computer can suck its life-giving juice from the power grid once again.

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