How alive I feel!. The risk, the danger, the moment of reckoning... cheated so that I may be left with this resounding sense of how precious it all is, how in a moment all certainty can be whipped away. Followed then by the thrill of escape, of recovery and jubilation at the simple gift of life itself. Yes, tonight I fly high, for I have cheated danger once more and confronted my own vulnerability...
...I survived my first powercut.
Then I survived a second.
A third
Until I lost count. You see, my washing machine managed to short the entire flat every time I put it on, and because this happened a good month ago, and because my landlord is pretty damn slow off the mark, I am languishing in a mountain of dirty laundry, a palace of slept-in sheets, with nowt to do but while away my copious spare time hand washing EVERYTHING.
Sorry, that is not remotely interesting to you. I just bored myself. But it was good to know I could deal with that, and then just a few days later, the most ridiculously huge spider in my living room.
Well, I say 'deal' with it, but my reactions were as follows:
Powercut:
1. Minor disgruntlement and fear of MI5 attack
2. Lights candles and has some dinner, which is sort of luke warm from the now defunct microwave
3. Tells EVERYONE on Facebook about the powercut. Everyone is very supportive.
4. Remembers where fuse box is, flips many switches, gets power back on.
5. Is about to tell EVERYONE on Facebook when the power goes off again
6. Calls Daddy
7. At his suggestion, wanders around flat isolating the many, many electrical items that have come to life since stepped in door 15 minutes ago.
8. Then isolates washing machine. Switches it off. Switches flips (or the other way round)
9. Has power. Continues with evening, appreciating electricity lots more
Spider:
1. Identifies large, large (MASSIVE) arachnid on curtain (see image)
2. Feels alarmed
 | |
| Pictured: Fear Itself |
3. Freaks out
4. Finds a glass. A glass is much too small. Finds a large vase. Still probably too small.
5. Concocts mental plan whereby arachnid falls from curtain, races towards victim and is enclosed in upturned vase at the precise moment before it leaps towards victim's face.
6. Tells EVERYONE on Facebook about the spider in photo and video format
7. Contacts key stakeholders in survival i.e. boyfriend, mother
8. Brushes off offers of help, and in a moment of creative procrastination, decides to make a short film about the process.
9. Once scene is set and camera rolling, throws a cushion at the spider. Nothing happens.
10. The telephone rings. News travels fast. Three people have offered to travel for 20 mins / 45 mins / 1 hour, to assist. Nice people.
11. Brushes off offers of help, yet more reluctantly.
12. 1.5 hours later, the phone rings. Follow up call from Mother. Regrettably informs her that has failed as yet in the task.
13. 30 minutes on phone to mother. Very intense. Cameras are NOT rolling. Much panicked breathing, a long stick, exclamation, a tennis ball, tears, a flip-flop and the Sports section of the newspaper (because nobody reads it)
14. Guilt. Mega guilt.
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