Not So Good Friday

I know the calendar says that today is Good Friday, Modern Philosophers, but I think someone is playing a cruel joke on me.

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, a huge April blizzard was bearing down on The House on the Hill (and the rest of Maine, I suppose).  I thought I was prepared for it, and even saw it as a good sign because it would help with the governor’s stay at home order, and I wouldn’t have to drive in it.

Silly, stupid, naive man…

I woke up this morning to the sound of snow blowers and the city snow plow rumbling down the street.  What I didn’t hear, however, (and this was the alarming part) was the sound of hot air being pumped through the house.

That was when panic set in.  I threw off the covers, noticed how cold it was, and sprinted down the hall to turn on the light.

Nothing.

The power was out.

Not what I needed at this point in the game.  Perhaps you’ve noticed that I’ve been teetering on the edge ledge lately.  A worldwide pandemic is killing tens of thousands of people, we’re isolated in our homes for safety, I’ve been furloughed from my job, and now there’s no power because of a blizzard during the second week of April!

Good Friday.  Ha!

It wasn’t that I was worried about how cold it was inside The House on the Hill without the heat.  After all, this is Maine, and cold is a way of life.  I could always put on layers, crawl under blankets, and surround myself with cats.

I wasn’t worried about the lack of lights.  I’d bought emergency lighting years ago.

I wasn’t worried about growing bored without internet access, television, or the ability to write since my laptop’s battery drains very quickly.  I just sat on the couch and read a book.

What had me in a panic was the fear of losing all the food I had in the fridge and freezer.  I’d bought enough supplies to last me at least a month, so I wouldn’t need to go back out to the store in the midst of a stay at home order.

Money’s tight since I’m out of work.  It’s scary to go someplace where there will be a lot of people.  I thought this was the one thing I had under control.

That was what I obsessed about all morning as I waited for the sound of the furnace kicking in again.

I didn’t want to make another trip to the grocery store.  If you’ve read Monday’s post (My Daredevil Supermarket Adventure), you’ll understand how much that one trip for groceries drained my mental resources.

I’ve been trying very hard to keep away the dark clouds, and find a silver lining in everything that’s happened opened the last month.  Today, however, threatened to be the day that the train finally careened off the tracks.

I know so many others have it worse than I right now, but that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t having a total meltdown as I shivered all alone on the couch.  This was one of those rare moments when I wished there was someone here to keep my lifelong introvert company.

When that kind of tunnel vision thinking kicks in, it’s nearly impossible for me to snap out of it on my own.  My big brain loves to latch onto the train of thought that makes the most noise, and this one about the food spoiling was banging on all the pots and pans and screaming at the top of its lungs.

I’m only human.  Sometimes, the solitude isn’t as appealing as I make it out to be.  There are occasions when I wish there was someone to lean on when times are rough.

Or to just assure me that everything is going to be alright.

Thankfully, before the dark clouds closed in and dumped even more snow on my nowhere near good Friday, I heard a familiar hum.

The furnace had awakened.

Power had returned to The House on the Hill.

The dark clouds cleared, the panic subsided, and stress levels returned to normal.

I’m posting this photo of Amy Pond because it soothes me, and gives my brain a much needed, more positive focus.

This doesn’t mean all is well, though.

I’m beginning to rethink my approach to life.  Perhaps the road most introverted has become too lonely, and led me to a dead end.  Maybe when this all ends, and things return to what will pass as normal, I’ll choose a less isolated path.

And if Amy Pond happens to be walking along the road, then maybe the day that led me to reconsider my path was a good Friday after all…