The Night That the Lights Went Out in Stratford

I have been smokin’ my thesis this week. Which is good considering it is due by Sunday. I had a great schedule all worked out. Complete half the video presentation on Wednesday, the other half on Thursday, finish paper on Friday, submit on Saturday, mimosas on Sunday. And it was going along swimmingly. On Wednesday night I finished a good portion of the video and felt great going into last night. I came home from work yesterday, sat down at my computer to finish my video, and then the heavens opened up and rained on my parade.

Seriously. We had a storm that was insane. Being raised on the beach, I have been through 5 or 6 different hurricanes and countless tropical storms, so when I tell you that this was a bad storm – trust me. There was lightning and thunder, huge rain, and giant golf ball sized hail. And it went on for about an hour.

And it knocked out our power. So, at 6:30 last night, Chris and I were left tinkering around the dark house. I found him first out on the back porch, standing in the middle of leaves and sticks that had blown into our yard, hands on his hips, staring at the neighborhood. I walked out to him and asked him what he was doing.

“Those people, ” he said, pointing to the next door neighbors, “have to call in an insurance claim.”

“Did you talk to them?”

“No. I was just listening to them.”

He’s like an old lady. He just sits around our house, spying on the neighbors. So, I drag him inside and tell him if he is going to eavesdrop, could he at least do it from inside where it isn’t so obvious?

I continued to pace around the house. All I could think about was my thesis. I was going to fall behind. I wouldn’t get the video done. The paper would be late now. And there would be no mimosas on Sunday. I decided the only thing to do was drown my sorrows. So I grabbed a flashlight, two bottles of champaign we had in our fridge, and our only two champaign flutes (which were used at our wedding so now they have been dubbed the flutes we use during weddings and power outages). And Chris and I drowned our boredom and toasted my as yet unfinished thesis until we were both laughing too hard to talk.

We planted ourselves on the couch underneath our front window and Chris taught me the fine art of spying. We shined our flashlights into our neighbors houses, yelled at people when they drove by, and just generally acted like…well, drunk bored people. The highlight of the night was when we discovered that Molly thought our flashlight beam was the laser light we sometimes use to terrorize her. I was stumbling walking down the stairs in the dark with the flashlight in front of me and all of a sudden Molly comes crashing into the back of my legs, frantically chasing the beam of light. I cussed, Chris laughed, I fell, Chris laughed some more.

Around 9:00 we realized we were hungry. The power had gone out before we could eat any dinner. So we headed into the kitchen, grabbed some food, and piled back on the couch with our findings. It was all chocolate. We shared Hershey bars, Swiss Cake Rolls, and ice cream cones. Washed down, of course, with champaign cause we’re classy like that.

And, coming off of our sugar high, we ended up laying on the couch, feet in each other’s faces, talking about our jobs, our house, and all the secret things that young, married couples talk about during power outages. We talked until I passed out fell asleep in the middle of the conversation. At some point we made our way to bed. And at 5:00 this morning, the power came on. Lights, televisions, air conditioning – it all went crazy. But it still couldn’t jolt me out of my completely drunken content sleep.

This morning, I woke up with the dread and weight of my thesis hanging over me once again. I got dressed upstairs thinking about how long I would have to work tonight to get back on schedule. But when I came down to the living room and saw the remains of my blackout night with Chris – candy wrappers, empty champaign bottles, flashlights – I just smiled and took a deep breath.

I guess sometimes life is what happens when you should be writing your thesis.