the electricity goes out here often. at least four or five times a week, the washing machine stops in mid-sud cycle, the radio settles into silence, and i am left grateful that i my computer is connected to a big, black battery, providing about an hour of power when the lights go out. sometimes it happens in the dark hours of the morning, taking away my sleep-help of white noise, the nightly gift of my fan. at times like those, i vacillate between frustration that i can no longer sleep or wash the dish towels, and thankfulness that we have the luxury of electricity in the first place.
but then again, is it really a luxury? am i thinking like a spoiled child if i reason that the state should responsibly and dependably provide electric power to its citizens? it's not as necessary as running water, but a still a staple.
i admit, though, that i am spoiled, and grudgingly glad for chances to take a few less things for granted. come to think of it, patricio and i have enjoyed a few more candle-lit dinners than we would have, had their been no neighborhood blackouts. i've also used a few of those power-free times as an excuse not to do the ironing for another day. those have been good times; champagne bubbles look so much more romantic by candlelight, and as much as i try to find the meditative side of ironing, i enjoy it about as much as i enjoy listening to paul anka sing smells like teen spirit. it's not insufferable, but it's not fun, either. (his cover of black hole sun, on the other hand, is fun squared. or maybe even cubed.)
well, as if on cue, the electricity just went out. it would be really nice if, after a few more months, i could qualify for an honorary degree in "taking things in stride." i guess i'll start by taking a deep breath.