I am writing you this letter to:
- Protest your inefficiency at prioritization of emergency calls.
- To give you a clue about our neighborhood.
Tree branch broke and downed power lines on my street. YOU, meaning the Almighty Power Company, put out an orange cone and used yellow construction tape to block off the street at the nearby cross-street.
Yes, YOU did send out all those recorded “comfort” messages by phone. Too bad I did not get them. No power, no telephone service. We only knew what happened by one of our neighbors who lived across the street where it happened.
I had to make a phone call and we get no cell coverage from Verizon where our home is. This meant a bit of a walk down the street to get a strong enough signal. Actually we were not able to walk – it was more like maneuvering through 3 feet of snow and ice. Something I have never had to do in my life. Something I always thought would be fun. I am an idiot.
When we came across the orange cone and yellow tape, we saw that the tree and power lines were still in the street. This did not make us happy. So, the first call I made was to YOU and a recording answered. “If you have an emergency, like downed power lines, press one” So I did.
My call was picked up immediately and the operator took all the information. It would seem that YOU blocked off the street but did not tell a work crew about it. I was assured that it would be taken care of ASAP.
And it was. The lines were moved over to the side of the road (as much as possible because the tree pinning them down and blocking the road was not removed).
We asked our neighbor who had power (lucky bum!) to call YOU, again, and find out what the deal was. The deal was that YOU changed the status of my call to ‘resolved’. I was NOT happy about this news at all. YOU were now dealing with a sleep deprived (someone needed to keep putting wood into the stove), barely washed (no hot water, remember?), woman who just moved all the semi-warm contents of her fridge to her ice-cold garage. “Garage: is the New Frigidaire” probably won’t catch on like the other dumb sayings have, but I can relate to this one.
It snowed all day, so that must have delayed YOU from even starting to work on our situation. Our neighbor, whom I owe cookies now, knocked on our door and told us YOU said the status for our neighborhood’s restoration was 5:45 pm – today.
YOU are in so much trouble! Especially when the sun set and we knew we would spend another night in total darkness. Thankfully, we were able to scrounge up enough batteries to keep a camping lantern going when we needed to see.
Being cut off from the world (no TV, phone calls, Internet, texting), was driving me mad. Unable to watch the playoff games on the weekend, I had no clue who was going to the Super Bowl. My cousins had their baby girl and I didn’t know for days! And…I missed the Oscar Nomination announcements! To many people it is probably easy to wait for that information. Not for me. My whole being was “chomping at the bit” – a saying I now fully understand, BTW.
The latest ETA from YOU is noon today. Forgive me if I don’t believe it. Hubby has the fire roaring and along with 3 layers of clothing and ensconced in a “snuggy”, I am finally warm. I feel rebellious and snarky and I’m not going to move until my pout is over. Even though I have to pee.
Peeing has become a necessary evil. As you pull 4 layers down, you get a preview of the ice-cold seat awaiting you. It is 52 F in the bathroom. In spite of the warm lantern you bring in to comb your hair by.
A smart woman would take advantage of an empty fridge that is fairly warm and wash the bins and shelves. I, normally am that woman, and it could happen still, after I am finished with my pout.
Noon came and went. No surprises there. To YOUR credit we did have power in the afternoon. It was like, I imagine, getting out of jail must feel. I waited a half an hour before plugging things back into outlets, just to be safe from brownouts. I feared we would be back in the dark soon. My faith in YOU, diminished a lot.
BTW, my fridge is a gleaming white appliance. I hate to put food in it again. Hubby said, “It’s blinding!” and threw his arms up over his eyes. He’s such a comedian.
His humor kept me from having a severe pout. My sense of humor had left the building along with Elvis on Day Two. I, who pride myself on getting through things with my great sense of humor, am truly embarrassed.
I was humbled even further when hubby answered our first phone call.
“You’ve reached the Donner Party, please leave a message,” his huge grin was like a kid making a prank call, and that made me laugh even harder.
♥ TTFN ♥