Who's got the power?

06.29.06

            So last week we had a miscommunication with the power company.  They communicated (through the mail) that they were going to turn us off.  We communicated (through lack of opening said mail) that we didn’t believe them.

            Guess what?

            They won.

            They have leverage.

            Because they actually do have the power.

            My husband went home to take some measurements for our (imaginary) deck and discovered we had no electricity.

            He’s a good guy.  He went to the power company and paid the bill. They told him they’d turn it back on “tomorrow.”

            “Why tomorrow?  Why not now?”

            “Because that’s our policy.”

            “Okay, but I just gave you money.”

            “Tough.”

            So basically they’re punishing us for being stupid idiots, because it’s not like we didn’t have the money –  we just weren’t paying attention to their demands.  I think they just feel a need to prove that they’ve got the power… remind us, in case we’ve forgotten, that ultimately they can take both our cable and our internet amusements hostage.  Not to mention our coffee maker.

            Because my husband is furious with them, he calls me at work and yells at me for 10 minutes.  The gist of the conversation was, “You have to open the mail.  Even the bad mail.”

            He couldn’t see me rolling my eyes and sticking my tongue out at him, which was probably a good thing.  I don’t know why I have to open the bad mail because he’s the one who, technically, has all the money.  I’m thinking maybe all bad mail should just go on the front seat of his truck from now on – let him sit on it, not me.  I’m pretty sure he’d see the beauty of my mainstress-management technique:  Ignore bad mail. 

            I used to ignore telemarketers, too, but  the phone ringing all the time gave me stress, so I just got rid of the thing.

            It is important to simplify your life.

            We had an evening without electricity and it was fine, except for the part the next morning when I couldn’t make coffee or take a shower before work.

            We had a nice family picnic supper on the living room floor.  Cheese and crackers, lunchmeat, lettuce, tomatoes, milk – you know, all that stuff in the fridge that was going to spoil.  Little Miss tried to turn on the television to watch a movie, but I explained you can’t have movies with a picnic.

            It was all good.  The house was much darker and much quieter than usual.  We all went to bed early.  I learned something that I’m sure will be important in my novel-writing future:  in a pinch cell phones make pretty darn good flashlights.

            Sometimes a bright idea is a good one, sometimes it leaves you in the dark.