The lights aren't on, but somebody's home.

It was a dark and stormy night...  No, wait.  That wasn't even the start of this week from heck.

I had settled on calling Monday a Day of Inconvenience.  It was another of those workdays when I didn't have any water, didn't get a lunch break, and didn't get to go to the bathroom.  Still, I tried to put on a positive outlook:  at least I was heading home from work.  That's when the car ahead of me on the interstate kicked up a rock, which made a "star" on my windshield.  (The positive outlook came back when my insurance company and the glass repair company responded promptly.  The window was patched within an hour.)

Work on Tuesday was much better:  water, bathroom, and lunch.  I woke up at 11:44 p.m., though, probably because of lightning or thunder, and the power went out no more than three seconds after I looked at my alarm clock.  (Fortunately, my mobile phone has an alarm option.)  It was a slow-moving storm which seemed to be centered over us for at least 15 minutes.  There was so much lightning, I felt like a celebrity facing paparazzi photographers (or is that redundant?).

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were dedicated to storm clean-up.  There was no building damage at all to the schools, but we had branches or entire trees of all sizes down at nearly all schools in the district.  Clean-up will continue on Monday.

When I woke up Wednesday morning, I was pleased to see lights around the city.  I figured it wouldn't take long for the utility company to set things right.  As I drove around the city that day, though, I saw that traffic signals were inoperative in no set pattern throughout the city, and most of the west side (not where I live) was without power.  Estimates of the number of residents affected varied, but by Thursday evening, there still were about 75,000 of us in the dark.  Power companies throughout the south-central region have been called in to help.  The utility company told the apartment manager that we'd probably have power restored about 5:00 p.m. on Saturday.

The really odd thing about this was that the building with the two-bedroom units and the building with the efficiencies still had power, as did every other apartment complex, church, office building, and YMCA on our street, but the three buildings with the one-bedroom units, like mine, (and the office) did not.  I charged my mobile phones at work, but all the food in my freezer and refrigerator will have to be thrown away.  The apartment manager said my renter's insurance might cover the cost, so I'll read my policy in the morning and take an inventory of what's going in the garbage.  (Do you think I need to photograph the evidence?)

It turned out to be much easier than I expected to shave by candlelight.  After all, the white shaving foam reflected the light well, and as I removed it, I could easily see which parts of my face had yet to be shaved.  The real bugger was putting in my contact lenses in near darkness!

My mom called last night and mentioned that her cable TV wasn't working, but it was on at her two adjacent neighbors' houses.  "Just your cable?  That's nothing," I quipped.

At work today, the arborist continued to give me attitude.  The branch chipper clogged up (well, if the arborist really knew what he was doing...).  While checking out other sites with one of his assistants, my truck started dinging, and "Engine overheating" flashed on the dashboard.  I immediately pulled into the closest parking lot and phoned motor pool.  The guy they sent out looked under the hood and said he couldn't figure out what was wrong.  (Seriously, all he did was look; he didn't touch anything.)  His suggestion was that, since the coolant reservoir was full, I should drive the truck back to the shop (on the freeway yet!) and he would follow me, in case anything went wrong.  Just after I got back on the road, the truck dinged and flashed the message again.  I pulled in to the next door parking lot, the guy looked under the hood again, and still couldn't figure out what was wrong.  Miraculously, the trip back (via Interstate 44, U.S. Highway 169, Interstate Loop 244, and Okla. Highway 11) was made without the engine smoking, boiling over, or shutting down.  I did get the overheating message twice more, though, and, the second time, it was accompanied by the temperature gauge spiking then immediately returning to normal.  (Since the motor pool has had my backup truck for a couple of months now, I had to finish out the day with a truck borrowed from one of my crew members.)

Upon returning home from work, I heard A.C. units running and went to the office to verify power had been restored to my building, as well.  Yes, all three buildings were back online!*  I headed to my apartment with a positive outlook.  I didn't quite make it, though.

* Speaking of online, I thought of something interesting.  If your cable goes out, you can always watch videotapes or DVD's.  If your internet goes down, you can always play computer games.  However, if your power goes out, then you darn well better be a reader, as I am!

A neighbor whom I hadn't met but who had given me a friendly, "Welcome to the neighborhood!" one morning, as I sat and read on my patio, caught me near my door, said it was her birthday, and invited me over for a drink.  I politely declined and was ready to tell her that, as an introvert, and having experienced the week that I had just experienced, I strongly desired some solitude.  I didn't have a chance to get the words out, though, because she then started raving.  Seriously.  She went off on politics, religion, sex, and goodness knows what else (What do Al Pacino, Robert DeNiro, John F.  Kennedy, Bill Clinton, Barack Obama, Ellen DeGeneres, several lesser-known televangelists, and Jesus Christ have in common?  No, that's not a setup for a punchline.), cried two or three times, used profanity and otherwise offensive language, stayed within my personal space (half an inch away is within anyone's personal space), and got handsy two or three times (totally unconnected to the crying times) for a solid hour.  (Ironically, isn't "solid" a synonym for "stable"?)

She wouldn't let me get a word in edgeways (as if telling her that I never discuss politics, religion, or sex would do any good), and interrupting is rude, right?  What's a gentleman to do?  Keep edging away from my door and closer to the public area of the complex, that's what.  I wanted witnesses in case she accused me of sexual misconduct -- especially since she raised her leopard-print tank-top (or whatever you might call a woman's garment in a similar style) twice.  (Don't worry; she had a tie-dyed-like bathing suit or something on underneath, but I'll be darned if I was going to look down to confirm it for you and give her leverage for a sexual harassment charge.)  Wouldn't you know that no one was in the courtyard that entire time?  (Probably at home enjoying the return of their air conditioning.)

I thought she might've been off her medication.  Maybe she took the wrong dosage.  Maybe she was drunk or high on something (she mentioned various illegal drugs several times that hour, but I couldn't understand her well enough to determine if she was asking me for some or offering – I definitely think she was offering the sex).  Maybe she is mentally disturbed.  I thought of calling the apartment manager but was afraid that the woman might get even more unhinged if she saw me reach for my mobile phone (I had my door key sticking out between my fingers in case I had to punch her and run).

Finally, an elderly woman walked by, but she didn't look up, and I didn't know her (not to mention that I didn't want to get a senior citizen involved).  The woman I always considered crazy (up to this point, anyway) walked by, but she never has responded to my friendly greetings in the past, so I knew she wouldn't be any help.  The friend of my upstairs neighbor walked on the other side of the courtyard, but he just waved back and kept going.  The newlywed said hello and kept going, as it appeared he was on his way to his shift at a fast-food restaurant.  Finally, a woman I had been introduced to just yesterday walked by with her tiny dog, but she seemed intent to read whatever paper was in her hand.  She was enough to distract the raver, though, so I whispered to the woman to call for help, as the raver was behaving "a little weird" (and the winner of the Understatement of the Year award is....).  Wouldn't you know it that the raver conversed almost normally when the neighbor returned (after putting her dog away and making that phone call) and the apartment manager showed up?  Thankfully, they were enough of a distraction that the rave ceased, and the (new) crazy woman returned to her apartment.

I wasn't exactly scared – more like nervous and worried.  I locked myself securely in my apartment, showered (more to clean off dirt and sweat from work, less to cleanse my violated mind), and read several chapters in a book, in an attempt to calm my soul.  Eventually, I ventured out to another meal out (pizza, since I can bring home leftovers, now that the power is back on, and since I won't head to the grocery store until tomorrow morning), and, yes, I treated myself to several refills of Dr. Pepper.  I think I deserve it after the week I've had.  Don't you?