We were in our room last night: I was sitting on the bed reading about how children will make my life miserable (what did you think adoption books were for?), and Chris was doing some last minute computering. Naturally, we had the curtains open in spite of the fact that the sun had gone down long ago. (Our lights attract bugs, which in turn attracts geckos, and who am I to deny them an easy meal? Lemmy loves it!) That was when there was a flash followed by a boom. Nope--not lightning. A transformer. And, blessedly, not the one that controls our house.
"Why does it seem that no transformers blow at, like, 2:00 PM? It always seems to be between 11:00 PM and 4:00 AM," I mused.
"I'll call the electric company!" came a cry from the street.
No! Anyone but the electric company! Blown transformers seem so common that surely they shouldn't cause as much trouble as they do. Alas, here's a sample itinerary of a blown transformer:
12:00 AM - Transformer blows in a lovely display of fireworks.
12:02 AM - Having assessed the situation, someone calls the power company.
12:20 AM - The power company arrives (and you bet they took their sweet time).
12:30 AM - An attempt to fix results in another blown transformer, resulting in a five-block radius without power.
1:00 AM - A series of catastrophic events results in half the city being without power.
You can see where this is going.
Since falling asleep in a timely manner is not one of my strong suits, after we turned in I got to enjoy the whole ordeal from the comfort of my pillow. After the power company arrived, complete with a full squadron of workers who talk loudly and don't seem to realize that SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE!!!, another loud bang shook the neighborhood. Clearly, the transformer is not fixed. Nor was it 10 minutes later, when there was yet another loud bang. Things were especially not fixed when the fourth loud bang came ... and I realized that I couldn't hear my ceiling fan turning anymore. I peeled my eyes open to see that the modem's lights were off.
Yup. That's how you fix a problem: by making it worse. I recall thinking then that solar panels on the house were sounding like a mighty good idea. Wonder how much that would cost.
You wonder how long it will last, like, "Will it turn back on in 5 minutes, or will my husband have to take a dark shower and trade in his morning toast for plain bread?" According to the discrepancy between my cellphone's clock and the blinking clock radio, the power was off for about 40 minutes. Then the fifth loud bang came and I felt the cool breeze return, followed by as many loud noises as computers and charging cellphones can muster.
Ready for the punch line?
Chris slept through everything. All four loud bangs (minus the first, when we were both awake). Know what finally roused him from sleep? The printer turning back on. I'm surprised he didn't ask me what I was printing at this hour.
Clearly he missed his calling by not going into the military. The sounds of battle wouldn't rouse him from sleep, and provided that reveille sounded like a 5-year-old HP he'd get up just fine.