Recycled air*

Never have I been more disappointed in the existence of electricity until today.

I received a mass e-mail a few days ago alerting my workplace of a 5-6 hour-long Power Outage on Friday. Uh-oh, I think, and I immediately call the sender of the e-mail and demand to speak to someone in charge.

Well, okay, so I didn’t actually do that. Instead, I politely inquired if the building I currently occupy and, you know, run would be affected by Said Outage. “Yes,” said pleasant-sounding phone-answerer.

Well, shit, Gina, I think.** I immediately alert the residents, posting hot-pink signs all over the damn place.

So today, as I left work to join friends for lunch (have you ever eaten at a place called Cosi? It’s fucking delicious! The only curious thing was that my chicken-caesar-salad-sandwich included actual croutons. Like, they literally just put some salad on a piece of flatbread and wrapped it up. Intriguing). Anyway, we lingered at lunch, returning to campus around 1:30-or-so. As we pull up to my building, I am filled with a sense of disappointment. I’ll be returning to a dark, television-less, radio-less, computer-less, AIR CONDITIONING-LESS apartment.

But what’s this I see, as I enter the lobby?

Light! A blaring television! The subtle breeze of chemically-cooled air!

I guess I didn’t actually see that last part, but go with me here.

Turns out I was quite mistaken about this outage. Apparently when the person with whom I spoke on the phone told me “Yes,” she meant “No.” She’s a tricky one, that phone-answerer. A sly fox.

A sly fox whom I’d like to have Words. And Fists, really. But more likely, just Words. I mean, c’mon! All that work, all those warnings, all that anticipation–for nothing? 

*sigh* My life is so damn hard.

 

*http://www.songmeanings.net/lyric.php?lid=3530822107858485929

** Many moons ago, I dated a guy who often used this expression. He apparently had picked it up from a friend’s grandmother, who used it in reference to her daughter Gina (the friend’s mom). It’s generally said with the drawl of a southern Indiana native; pronounce it with me now: “Aw shee-it Gee-nuuuh.”

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