8 hours and 45 minutes

It’s eleven at night, I just got back from dropping Chad off at a club where Kaskade is the DJ. We had just gone to see Duplicity. It was great to see Julia again, but I was rather bored and disappointed with the movie. Chad will be home somewhere between two and three in the morning. Since I can’t fall asleep without him, I will be up till then too. Joy! I just sat down on the couch for a long evening of TV (I was going to watch Last Cake Standing that I had recorded earlier on the Food Network), when I heard a loud pop from my fuse box, and the entire house went dark. I sat there stunned for a couple seconds and then rushed to the door and flung it open for some light. Thank God I was in the living room and not downstairs. I would still be down there in the dark, long past trying to find my way upstairs and curled in the corner crying. I opened the front door in just enough time to see a huge spark over the tree line maybe a fourth of a mile southwest from here and to hear another really loud pop. The entire neighborhood is in blackness. I stood there, hearing nothing but distance sirens. Then, I heard one of my neighbor’s doors creak open. I couldn’t see them or tell which house it was coming from, so I got freaked out, and closed and locked the door. I grabbed my computer, which had been sitting beside me on the couch, opened it up and used it for a light to find my phone, which I then used to text Chad and use as light to find my candle lighter. I am now surrounded by seven different candles. However, I realized that they are casting a light from the edges of my windows, which makes me nervous that someone will know I was home during the power outage. So, I then used one of the candles to find my way into the kitchen (with Dolan growling at my heels and really not helping the situation) and got my large butcher knife. So, now I am in the living room with my computer, dogs, candles, and a big knife. I don’t know why having the power out makes me feel less safe, but it does. I think it has something to do with the prehistoric silence that falls in a house mixed with the darkness. Not even the hum of the air conditioner fan… Of course one of my first thoughts was that having no electricity would mean that alarm systems would not work; people could break in anywhere (thus the knife). Half a moment later, I remembered that I don’t have an alarm system anyway, so I’m not sure how this situation is more dangerous, but I am sure it is. I just got a text back from Chad, he is fine, and, of course, the club has power. He said he good luck with my big knife and that he loves me. Pretty sure the correct response included something along the lines of rushing right home to make sure that when I dropped him off a bit ago wouldn’t be the last time he saw me alive. Apparently, not.