Power outage: Day 5

Has it been five days already? I'm losing track of time. I suppose that's to be expected when you don't have electricity to keep glancing at the clock.

Some of the things I keep hearing people say throughout this debacle is: "Who cares if you don't have power?" "It's just a little speed bump on the road of life." Or my favorite, "This is a minor inconvenience." It was a minor inconvenience three or four days ago. Today, it's approaching ridiculous.

When you suffer from an "inconvenience" such as this, more often than not, you fall back on the generosity of your family to help you out, right? What do you do when that's not an option?

If my parents lived closeby, I'd think nothing of showing up — unannounced — at their house to seek shelter from the icebox that my apartment has become, but that's not an option for me. And I'm not close enough with my extended family members to expect them to open their homes for me (that is, if they even have power!) My problem is that I'm more or less alone out here, fending for myself. And while normally, I thrive on the idea of independence, after five days of eating next to nothing (except at lunchtime or the occasional peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner), and sleeping in a room with temperatures so cold hypothermia is a legitimate possibility, I don't view this as a minor inconvenience. To me, this is downright dangerous. 

So far, I've heard of two people (and two dogs) who have died in my town from carbon monoxide poisoning because in lieu of electricity, they were heating their home with a propane heater of sorts. Despite the fact that I know better, I briefly considered going to sleep with a candle (or two) burning to at least keep some semblance of warmth overnight. I didn't, but who's to say other people haven't? Desperate times call for desperate measures and often, desperate measures can have disastrous outcomes. If people are dying (or at the very least, succumbing to illness) while the power restoration efforts are under way, who is going to be held accountable?

Residents have a right to be upset that the utility crews have been operating slowly. I'm no longer willing to cut utility workers any slack; this is their job, after all. Plus, it's not like customers will receive a rebate for the extended power outage nor will the electric company pay for hotel rooms for those customers who need to vacate their homes due to the lack of heat.

Yesterday, I arrived home from work to find four National Grid trucks in front of my house. At the time, I assumed the work crews work doing their job and that our power would be restored that day, but as of this morning, our electricity still wasn't on. How is that, in any way, acceptable?

Those utility crews may be working around the clock and under stressful conditions, but worrying about where you're going to lay your head at night is just as stressful.

It's a strange thing to have a home and yet still be homeless.

The great escape

It's been almost a year since I took any substantial period of time off work.

The last time I took a vacation was December when my then-boyfriend and I were in the midst of a (brutal) break-up and I did the only think I could think of to do at that time: packed up my belongings and ran home with my tail between my legs to seek comfort from my parents. It's almost hard to acknowledge that as a vacation, in retrospect.

While it's true that I'll only be heading back home to spend the week with my family next week, this time I'll be reading, relaxing and recharging my batteries. It's a much-needed, well-deserved break from life in Monson. As much as I love it here, I can't wait to escape.

Last night I went to the Monson town meeting and despite the fact that I was covering it for work, I found I actually enjoyed myself. (That right there is an indication that I am in desperate need of a vacation.) It was fun listening to the different points-of-view from people I've come to know very well during my four years here. Having an understanding of who these people are definitely adds a certain (entertaining) element to town meeting, that's for sure. But while I was sitting there, absorbing life in what has become my favorite small town, I felt a longing for familiarity; for what used to be home.

Dracut has a certain attraction for me. I once made the excursion cross-state (more than three hours round trip) just to get a Tiramisu from my favorite Italian restaurant, Mamas. I've ventured back home and spent hours watching the cows graze at Shaw Farm or lost amid the stacks of books at The Book Rack. And one of my good friends from high school has opened a bakery in town that I've been dying to visit for at least three months. I'm looking forward to going back and enjoying all those things that I took for granted while I lived there.

Over the last four years, I've come to regard Monson as being home, but it will never quite replace Dracut; I will always compare the two in my mind. It's great living a life of my own away from my parents and struggling to survive and all, but sometimes a girl just wants to give up the good fight and take a breather. Certainly, I'll appreciate my life here after spending a week or so there. I'll miss my friends and the comfort of my apartment, but that will just make vacation all the more worthwhile.