I know I’m supposed to be an adult and all, but I’m scared of lighting. The thunder that claps after the light show doesn’t bother me … much. But spring has been hosting “The Thunderstorms” in concert for a few weeks now and I’m not a fan of the show. Of course rain is a principle ingredient to making the garden grow, but I would prefer the rain without her loud friends.
Last week, I experienced back-to-back power outages – one at home and one at work. The first one took place around 11 p.m. at my apartment. I was in bed reading and all of sudden I heard a BOOM and then the whole complex went dark. Parish was in the other room watching the end of yet another basketball game.
The book I was reading flew above my head and landed behind the bed. Does that reaction make me a scaredy cat? It was as if the darkness immobilized me – I didn’t move a muscle. Parish came running in and found me in my terrified state and cautiously asked, “Are you OK?”
Eventually I found the courage to nod my head and finally got up to survey the neighborhood. Lights were on at the church by our apartment and the lights in front of the mailbox station were on – but buildings one through six were eerily dark.
“What are we going to do now?” I asked Parish. “Go to bed,” he responded. I wanted to light candles and play “Clue” or something. Since it was almost midnight on a work night, I crawled into bed and tried to sleep. The air was muggy and the fan above our bed just hung there. No fan, no air-conditioning, no idea when the life within the power lines would emerge again. An hour later, the fan started turning, the light came on in the bathroom and in the other room, Sports Center boomed through the TV speakers. And I thought I was scared before! Since Parish was sleeping like a baby, I jumped out of bed and turned everything off. I also grabbed a cup of water and looked twice at the Nyquil bottle.
Sleep eluded me most of the night. Eventually I shlumped myself to the guest bedroom/office and looked for Mr. Sandman there. We finally met up for about two hours and then I awoke with a start and thought Parish was standing over me. He wasn’t – it was the office chair. At this point, I hated Mr. Sandman, electricity, the big office chair and the mood I would be in the next day.
I returned to my bed and glared at my husband sleeping like a log. An hour or so later, “The Thunderstorms” united for a concert and shook my fist in defiance of their ridiculous light show. I think I slept about three hours during the whole night.
The lightning and rain showers were just too much for my little heart to handle – I wanted to be coddled and reassured that everything would be fine. Bad storms scared me when I was little too. I remember running to my parent’s bedroom and diving under the covers at the first sight of a lighting strike. Twenty-four years later and not much has changed.
I’m ready for “The Thunderstorms” to go on tour and move onto their next venue. Maybe “Spring Showers,” or “Sunny Summer” will come to town next.