The Great Blackout of 2018

We had some storms roll through Tuesday evening; nothing major, just heavier rain than we have had in a few weeks and maybe a little thunder here and there. I was cooking dinner when our power blinked off, came right back on, then went off again for about 10 seconds. "Whew, thank goodness it didn't really go out," I stupidly said out loud. You see, the thought of losing electricity paralyzes me with fear. I desperately want a generator...or two generators in case something goes wrong with the first one.

My friend and neighbor, Melissa, also shares my power loss phobia, and she immediately sent me a text because her house had experienced the same fright. We reassured each other that the threat had likely passed, and I even commented that I hoped I hadn't jinxed us all by the fact that I had already reset two of our blinking clocks. Why, why do I tempt fate?

We ate dinner and continued with our nightly routine. As I stepped out of the shower, the unthinkable happened: everything stopped and I found myself groping for my towel in total blackness. I tried waiting calmly for things to come back on; we hadn't really had any severe weather, so how long could it take? But after several minutes in the dark, Clint brought me the flashlight and I descended into full panic mode. Every minute felt like an hour; nothing we owned seemed to work without electricity.

Our little blind dog never even noticed anything was different.

I made it about 15 minutes before I felt like I was climbing the walls. I had already uttered my every-time-the-power-is-out-nervous-catchphrase, "Did I tell you I read somewhere that a crayon will burn for half an hour?" When the apocalypse comes, me and my Crayola 64 pack with the built-in sharpener will be ready. And so, we did what most anyone would do under the circumstances: we got the dog, got in the car, went to McDonald's for Cokes, and drove around for an hour and a half to wait it out (I'm fairly certain my family crest includes McDonald's golden arches, because when the going gets tough, that's where we head). We passed two Duke Energy trucks and wished them Godspeed on our way to McDonald's, and Melissa sent another text that the estimated repair time was 9:30. Gulp. It would be a wait, but we could make it. We both wondered amongst ourselves about how pioneer people did it back in their day. Then again, they didn't realize they could be rewatching old Dexter episodes in Netflix, now did they?

That's right, people: the more you know.

After an hour and a half of driving around south Charlotte, we decided to venture home. After all, according to Duke Energy, they should have everything up and running any minute. We had also noticed that ours was literally the only neighborhood in the area without power (I scowled at all those happy houses we passed, people inside daring to do things like use lamps or watch television). We came inside, got the flashlights back out, lit a few candles, and waited.

My husband is a stickler for bedtime, so even though we were still in blackout mode, when 10:00 p.m. came, we tried to go to sleep. We typically use a box fan every night as white noise and to drown out Clint's snoring, but in lieu of that he cued up this handy app on his phone that is supposed to provide soothing sounds for sleeping. He uses it all the time when we travel, and I'm just not a fan (no pun intended). The water sounds always make me have to go to the bathroom, and the other options never sound like whatever they claim to be. For this particular night, he chose "Oscillating Fan," although I'm convinced it was really "Hissing Demons" or "1,000 Fingernails Collectively Scratching a Chalkboard." Yes, this was going to be restful night for certain.

With both my spouse and my faithful dog snoring away, I laid there and prayed for the good Lord to restore us to electrical good health. It was so stuffy without the air conditioning that I laid on top of all the covers and tried to convince myself that it wasn't that hot, I didn't feel claustrophobic at all, and that the situation wasn't that bad. But it was terrible. I checked the clock at least every half hour, longing to see the red digital numbers on my bedside alarm clock blinking back at me, but to no success.

Finally, mercifully, around 4:00 a.m., everything whirled back to life and our power was restored. The husband and the dog didn't even wake up to the sounds of our livelihood  being reinstated, so I giddily woke them both to break the good news. The A/C purred, the fan sounded more glorious than it has ever sounded, and all was right with the world.

Melissa and I exchanged more texts the next morning to recount all our miseries. Was the food in the fridge still good (we decided to assume it was, for the sake of not throwing out groceries just bought)? Had she noticed yet that our DVRs did not record a single show (a day without Bravo programming...yikes)? She was of the opinion that Duke should have provided counseling for their affected customers to talk about what we went through, and I completely agreed. We also decided that they only way to right the wrongs done to us was to meet for margaritas Friday night, but if I'm being completely honest, that was going to happen anyway.

I saw this morning on social media that several friends in nearby towns lost their power last night and were waiting for it to be restored. As usual, it was taking much longer than expected and their nerves, much like mine Tuesday night, were more than frayed by the situation. We survived for almost six hours without electricity, which led me to say something that you don't hear very often: thank God for Ben Franklin and his kite! I am still reveling in the miracle of flipping a light switch and seeing a room illuminate, still basking in the soothing glow of our television, still holding my hand over the air vents to feel that wondrous air conditioning flow.

And that, dear friends, is the story of The Great Blackout of 2018. Cherish your power. Hold it dear.