Earlier today, I played some Chopin for the first time in 6 months, wiped down the dogs, groomed Delilah, cleaned my kitchen, sang from Faure's Requiem (I like it better than Mozart's), read through half of my stack of to-read magazines and articles and and filed away bills. My phone had gone cold in the middle of a call to the DMV, my netbook had died hours earlier and my car was still safely tucked away in the garage, albeit inaccessible. With the sun creeping lower and the skies darkening, I locate two candles and a book of matches and quickly realized I was ill-equipped for a real power outage, save a disaster. While romantic, my decorative candles provided shit for light as I sat in the dark, digging into a can of corn. A nap seemed natural if not the only remaining option and of course, just as I doze off, ding! The lights come on and I hear a cheer from the neighborhood kids who'd been playing outside all day, riding their bikes and bouncing around a basketball. I pull up the covers and go back to sleep.
Unplugged, it was a strange but beautiful day.
Unplugged, it was a strange but beautiful day.
