We coped with the devastating and shocking blow that was the Brangelina split with no more disbelief, outrage and questioning of what love even is anymore than anyone heavily invested in the relationship of complete strangers might have.
We weathered the storm of Richie choosing Alex instead of Nikki on the Bachelor with no more than a couple of utterances of “well this is a fucking joke” under our collective breaths.
Zayn leaving One Direction was a slightly more tumultuous time a la Maison de eenie meenie miney mum, but we got through it. Together. #solidarity
And by “we”, I mean me.
So clearly I can withstand a lot. I have a strong constitution. I’m not at all melodramatic with a penchant for histrionics. Not in any way. Some might say, I’m unphasable.
As it turns out however, I was not emotionally prepared for a statewide power failure when I only had 21% battery left on my iphone.
Now that the dust has settled, and the lights are on again so we can actually see the dust that’s settled [on every surface evidently…maybe I should dust more often] I’ve had time to reflect upon the sheer and utter unadulterated torture of being off the grid for an eight hour period [two of which I was asleep for] and I’ve come to realise a couple of things.
Firstly, we don’t own an in car phone charger OR Jenga and we probably should rectify this complete and utter unpreparedness for the Armageddon.
Secondly, I suffered five distinct stages of surviving an eight hour power failure and they went something like this.
1. Denial and isolation
This is not happening.
Flicks on and off light switches.
Tries to turn on TV.
Ok so it is happening.
Maybe it’s just us.
Ring a group of randomly selected people [who by sheer coincidence and good fortune all have good dinner making skills] to ask if their power is on.
It’s not just us.
Briefly consider possibility of zombie apocalypse.
Sidenote: if a zombie apocalypse happened in Vegas, would it stay in Vegas? Food for thought.
Use the last 21% of my phone battery up in approximately fourteen point four seconds of panicky instagramming.
It’s ok, this can’t last long. This is 2016. They’re hardly going to leave a whole state without power for any more than an hour.
Three hours later.
I have never felt so alone.
This cannot be happening.
It’s Bachelorette night!!!
What kind of archaic society are we living in where an ENTIRE STATE can lose power?
Why are we not prepared for this????
[Unless you count the four hundred and seventeen glasshouse montego bay candles we own but I haven’t burnt until now because I don’t want the wick turning black]
Spend a solid five minutes angrily visualising some dude doing this:
WHAT HAS GONE WRONG WITH THIS STATE!!!!!????
WE HAVE THREE YOUNG CHILDREN TO FEED AND I DON’T FEEL LIKE MAKING SANDWICHES!!
This would never happen in Melbourne!!!!!!
It’ll be fine if it’s on by 6 o’clock.
7:30. If it can just be 7:30.
We can last til 8:30. But it’ll be on before then anyway.
We’re survivors, we can survive this. We are resourceful.
Use matches to light gas cook top
Well I’ve officially missed The Bachelorette then. Georgia Love is one step closer to finding the man of her dreams and real, everlasting true love and I’ve missed it. May as well just stop watching the whole series.
The entire freezer is probably going to defrost now anyway so I’m basically saving us money by eating the ice cream. All of it.
Guess we should just go to bed.
“So this is what life was like in the olden days” says my husband as he checks his Facebook on his iPhone.
Go to bed.
GET TEN HOURS AND TWENTY SIX MINUTES SLEEP AND THIS IS THE GREATEST, MOST AMAZING NIGHT OF MY LIFE!!!!!