Thursday, September 17, 2009

Day Thirty-Two...Greased Lightning!

Another day, another dollar.  Well, no.

Pretty laid back day.  Last night was wild, though.  I was going to bed (late, again) and had just turned off the lights and was laying on my side, looking out the windows when there was this unbelievably bright greenish blue light and sizzling sounds and WHHOOOOMMMP, all the lights, all the electricity, were out like candles.  As I laid there, feeling my heart rate climb (it doesn't take much), there was a flicker and then another seriously bigger flash and buzzing sound and then complete and utter silence.  It was pitch black and I was sitting in bed like a scared little Girl Scout after ghost stories around the campfire.  Seriously, I own up to it...I was s-c-a-r-e-d.

I'm one of those people that are wound a little tight.  For example, when you're vacuuming and you're in the zone, spacing out, just hearing the loud drone of the vacuum, and then someone comes up behind you and taps you on the shoulder?  You know, where you just about bust a lung yelping and you jump out of your skin?  I'm wired like that all the time.  Sometimes I just have that fight or flight reaction for no reason, just out of the blue.  I hate it when I read about people likening adrenaline flowing through their veins like champagne, 'cause let me tell you, those prickly bubbles sting!  So when the mothership (or whatever the hell it was) landed last night, I could feel the adrenaline prickling in the backs of my hands, in my throat as it closed over, and all over my back.  I crept out of bed, trying to see in the dark and get to the flashlight.  I know now what a complete city girl I am because, while I appreciate nature and a starry sky and deer and stuff, I never realized how dependent I am on ambient city lighting (stuff like streetlamps, stoplights, car headlights, etc).  I felt like I could have poked myself in the eye and not have seen it.  I called to Steve and asked him to come to I was eight years old again.  It was wild and humbling.

Steve and I (like a couple of ninnies) went outside with our flashlights and peered around the neighborhood to see how much of it was out of power.  All of my neighborhood was completely out.  It was as if flat black paint had been coated all over everything.  There was no moon, no stars, just a steady, cloudy sky with a drizzling of rain.  There had been no lightning, and I had heard no thunder at all.  We guessed that a transformer or two had blown, and finally we got back into bed (with a candle for little ole me).

The power came back on in a few hours, and between that, and Andrew waking up two or three times in the night (water, company, breakfast at 4am), I am amazed I have any energy at all.  Granted, coffee figured largely into my day.  I love that stuff, seriously.  Big huge fan of it.  That's the crap that's flowing through my veins, thank you very much.  But I didn't go running.  Sue me, the mothership landed last night and sapped my strength for the day.  I did eat well and have been productive in other ways, but I also did something funky to my left thigh muscles when I was lifting weights last night.  It was just a twinge, but now I am noticing it when I climb stairs, and when I get up and move around after sitting for more than a few minutes.  Since I had little sleep and have a twitchy weird leg, I decided to give myself permission to miss a workout this week.  I had been figuring on having elusive perfect week.  All workouts done, all meals well-made and healthy.  When will I ever remember that little tidbit about life being about progress, not perfection?

Probably the day after I stop spouting adrenaline like a humpack whale spouts water.  G'night.  See you tomorrow!

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