1:17 p.m. – Thursday

It hasn't faded into the past yet. I haven't forgotten the moment. I am not taking you for granted yet. I'm sure I will soon. And I'll forget the time, and the day. But not the feeling.

By now I sincerely hope you're back to having power. And I hope when you got it back you celebrated appropriately.

Some danced. Some sang. Some threw their hands into the air. I did all three. I was as productive in the first hour as I ever am. First I did a load of laundry, in cold water of course. Then emptied the fridge and freezer. Even wiped down the now bare shelves. By then enough water had heated for a long overdue shave and then that much anticipated shower.  Ahh.  Life is great. Livin' the dream.

My power went out Monday morning at 8. I was at work, so no big deal. Yet. Each evening I would hope. Thinking how difficult it is to get up at 3:40 a.m., and not have coffee brewing as I had a hot shower.

Thursday afternoon, I had just gotten home from work, to an apartment without power. I was thinking 'What am I going to do this afternoon', when I heard the beep from the stove and microwave clocks. 3 and a half days later, it came back. I set the clocks to 1:17 p.m. I've never gone that long without power before. Lived through a hurricane, a tornado and other storms, but was lucky enough to never have to 'rough it' for so long. Actually, in hindsight, it was kind of nice to have the solace. And I, with the help of a flashlight, read a great book. But I sure missed what I take for granted.

I'll miss playing 'Power. No Power' like it was a game show every morning. But Windstorm 2017, I'm glad you're gone.