-The power will go out. Forget the flash light. Flash lights are for sissies. Put on a head lamp.
-Gather your favorite magazine and read it, or watch the storm from your window while on the phone with your husband. Since he's not home. (wah!)
-Go to bed only after you know you're not going to be impaled by a stray tree branch.
-Wake up sweating.
-After peeling the bedding off of your drenched body, vow to do clean your sheets as soon as the power comes back on.
-Try to make sense of the following: you have no electricity, therefore no coffee. Don't cry.
-Find. Coffee. I repeat, find COFFEE.
-Eat breakfast anywhere that has power. And coffee.
-Come home and flip light switches in vain.
-Remember the load of clothes that had finished in the washer right before the power went out. Try to decide between line drying them (this involves activity, which equals sweat), or just sitting there.
-Allow your practicality to overrule your laziness. Line dry your clothes, woman.
-Go outside. Unless the government has warned you away from being outside. Because it's 115 degrees.
-Drive around your town taking random pictures.
|Here is one the husband took. He's getting so good!|
...during that drive, if you happen upon downed power lines, go ahead and drive over them. They're not working any way.
-Drink only cold liquid lunches.
-Go outside. It can't be that bad. FALSE. It is that bad.
-Drive around until....
-You get a phone message that your power is back on. Forget the speed limit. Fly, you fools.
-Shriek in joy when your light switch works. It works!!
-Wash your sheets.
-Let the cool down begin.
Now you know how to survive a power outage like a Chandler. And knowing is half the battle.