I've always hated the fact that my office doesn't have any windows but never so much as today... when the power went out... at 2:30pm in the afternoon... on a Wednesday. I can't describe how odd it is to find oneself sitting at a desk, writing up progress notes by candlelight. It's not something I ever imagined doing. I somehow think of work as one of those places that is more insured against natural mishaps. All the computers and routers and networks running out of that building, it's too put together to be sitting in the dark. Plus the generator, the back-up lights- you'd think that if it did go out the network would re-boot. But it didn't. We had emergency lights and an alarm, that was all that worked. It was full blown lights out, complete with someone stuck in the elevator. (She got out without too much of a panic attack, thankfully.)
And i'm sitting there, in the semi-dark, straining to see the paper by the dim light and my co-worker says how this must be what it was like back in colonial times. Huh? Their computers didn't work? No, they only had candlelight and had to write with quill pens and it took a month to deliver a letter. My thoughts? No wonder they went blind by thirty.
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