Back to black

I learnt something new today. Something that would have become apparent long ago if I'd given it much thought. And that is that powercuts are boring. Tedious things they really are.

It was dusk when I found myself walking down the hallway towards my front door. The security lights were already on and I was looking forward to a relaxing evening as in the previous 24 hours I'd had my senses battered by Batman at the Imax, my nerves jangled by a meeting and interview with Shane Warne and my self loudly berated by workmates after I mistakenly sent a 140MB file to everyone in the building - which led to the collapse of my company's entire email. Oops.

The last thing I needed was to be plunged into darkness as I pulled out my keys and attempted to get into my front door. Something had happened in the neighbourhood as my entire estate disappeared from view.

A quick trip to the shops followed to pick up some candles and I soon lay there on my sofa looking up at the ceiling wondering what the hell I could do. So I listlessly called a few mates and then my brother who was the first to remark 'ooh, how cool' when I told him there was a blackout in the Battersea area in town. I quickly disagreed. For what exactly is there to do when there's no electricity? No reading, TV, computer, tea-making opportunities, no shower or bath, no music no nothing. BORING!!!!!

Fast forward two hours and Fe had finally got back from uni after another knackering day. We popped out to get some food and then had crossed our fingers on the way back that power had been restored. No such luck. She started her MA two weeks ago and had homework to get in for the next day. You can't fault her dedication.





And then without warning the electricity clicked back into gear. And we both jumped up and felt deliriously happy for about five minutes as we marvelled at all the things that were once again possible.