In The Ghetto

Sooo we lost power. On Monday. In the very early AM. My roommate was in the shower, showering. She showers. It’s a thing. Someone once told me it was next to Godliness, which means my roommate is getting the seat right next to the big G. Me, I’ve got thick curly hair. I’m an every other day shower kind of girl. If I did it every day, my hair would never be totally dry. Speaking of which, my hair is still damp from the shower this morning.

I’m getting off topic here.

We lost power. She was mid-shower, and bang – lights out. There was some crazy wind going on, with rain, and there was thunder and lightning. The cats hated it. They’re hysterical when their afraid of something. They keep walking slowly, cautiously, nervously looking for the thing that’s making that loud cracking noise. Then they sit for a moment, looking to me or my roommate, hoping we’ll show them that we’re doing the noise with some device or something, and then the thunder happens again, and they totally spaz. It’s great.

I’m doing it again. Dang-it.

The lights went out, and my roommate was in the shower. Knowing there’s absolutely no light in there, since the showers in our apartment have no windows, I asked if she wanted me to put one of our candles in there so she could see. I didn’t want her falling or something. She was all ‘My shower curtain is sheer. I’m naked. You’ll see nakedness.’ I wanted to remind her I’m a chick, which means I’m pretty sure I know the parts, but then I remembered she’s uber-shy, so I left it alone. I’m not of the shy variety, but I totally respect the shyness. It’s really kind of sweet to know that there’s someone out there that’s as completely sweet as my roommate.

Once again, I’ve distracted myself.

The point is, the power went out on Monday in the very early morning, and the power wasn’t restored until late in the day today. Tuesday. Like, late-late. Around dinner time. Someone asked me why the power was off for so long and my first response was to sing ‘because I live in the ghetto’. I don’t know if there’s a real song that has ‘in the ghetto’ in it, but every time I have to say something about a ghetto, I sing it. My sister does too. I have no idea where we picked that up from.

So yeah, I was sweating balls for two days and now I’m all happy and in my A/C cooled house with a charged laptop and Internets. I think the hardest part was the lack of Internets. I couldn’t watch STNG. Tragic.

And yes, the insomnia continues. My back is KILLING me. I’d bring it up on charges for attempted murder, but it’s mostly just pissing me off and making it hard for me to sit, stand, walk, or lie down comfortably.

How weird is it that I want to spell ‘comfortably’ with a ‘p’ after the ‘m’? That’s weird, right? I think it’s weird.

I wanted to cry when my roommate was cleaning up and emptying the refrigerator (because ALL of our food went bad after two days with no ‘fridge’), and I couldn’t help her at all. I couldn’t wash anything, or sweep, and I couldn’t even take the garbage out because the bags were too heavy. Me wanty new back. Someone Harry Potter that biznitch up, will you?

I leave you with now, with this brief peek into my very random brain thinking thing that I do, and I go to read some Terry Pratchett. I’ve read all his books, so knowing the end might make me sleepy. It’s like watching one of those movies I know backwards and forwards, but with a book, and a soft pillow, and lovely white noise.

It probably won’t work, but it’s that or get snockered so I pass out. I don’t think drinking my way to sleep is a great idea. That way leads to AA, and twelve steps is too many. It should just be one: Put the fucking bottle down, idiot.

Oh, wait, book on tape… yes. Read me to sleep, soothing voice. Read me to sleep. Someone cross their fingers and pray that I sleep more than two hours tonight!