Forgot to Add a Title

That is what happens when your brain is overheated and your fear you won’t have power at home: you publish your posts without titles.

I have my fingers crossed that the power will be restored to our building when I get home from work, but my hope is at low tide. I have a feeling we won’t get off so easily—I think it’ll be an unexpected trip to the grocery store to restock our fridge and freezer, along with struggling to cool down our apartment before our weekend visitor arrives on Saturday. Ah, good times.

I was in my gym’s basement when the power decided to go. There are no emergency lights—I found myself in an inky, pitch black room, and I have to be honest that the second thought in my head was zombies (yes, I’m insane, laugh away). The first thought was this: crap, I didn’t memorize where all the equipment was and I’m bound to run into some incline bench and it will hurt.

I staggered my way out like an aforementioned zombie, however, without incident. I did nearly miss a step on the way out, but quickly caught myself despite the torturing step ups and squats I’d just finished when the power failed. Making my way upstairs, I saw the wind blowing like crazy, the rain pouring with abandon, and the glum look on IP’s face reflected my own: we were screwed. It would be a hot night for us. Our power has gone out quite a few times this summer—we were actually pretty lucky during Snowpocalypse, but I guess whatever crappy infrastructure PEPCO has in our neighborhood must be very susceptible to heat and electric storms. I have to be quite honest when I say that I’m pretty sick of summer, with its 40+ ninety-degree days and power outages. Either cool down or be fall already. I know IP is waving me off from the fall thought for good reason (which I won’t divulge here), and I want the following month to go super-slow for him, but it can be Labor Day Weekend now for me. I’m ready.

First, though, I do have things to look forward to: a visit to Michigan, a weekend away for our first wedding anniversary, and IP’s birthday. Because I know that my mom stored away pieces of our wedding cake, and because I know from my sister that she did not store it correctly, I’ve contacted our baker to ask for a small replica of our wedding cake—if I’m forced to have a slice of it, then damn it, I want it fresh because that cake was delicious. IP barely got to taste it, so him having a chance to have a full slice sans the ice crystals and frosting you could chip your teeth on would be quite nice.

After the Michigan visit comes the anniversary getaway (so for those who thought IP and I were spending our anniversary with our parents—now you’re the ones who are insane). Then it’s IP’s birthday and I get to lavish him with ice cream cake, books and sex (I mean, what more could the guy ask for in a wife?). Amongst all that are a couple of visitors, and we sincerely hope that we have power for said visits.

So now, I’ll stop typing with my crossed fingers and make the long journey home (with dread rumbling in the pit of my stomach).