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.

Paranoia

I don't know what I have to be stressed about, but I am under such an inordinate amount of stress lately that I'm about ready to break down. It's the physiological effects I'm having a hard time dealing with — the pressure in my chest and racing heart, the dizzy spells and hot flashes, the difficulty breathing and the debilitating sense of foreboding that prevents me from doing pretty much anything other than staring blankly into space wondering when it's all going to end. I long for the day when this feeling will subside.

A couple nights ago, I was sitting on my couch reading a book, the least stressful activity I could possibly do, when I felt what I can only describe as a fluttering in my chest. It was the briefest of vibrations — less than five seconds total — but it was enough to capture my attention. It happened several more times that night, a handful of times yesterday and at least twice so far today, which makes me wonder... should I be concerned?

Doc told me I'm wound too tight and that I should cut back on my caffeine (he should talk!) and try to calm down (ok, where's my prescription for Xanax?) but it's not quite so simple. Yes, I had one fewer coffee today than yesterday (without any sugar, I should be commended), but I can't stop fretting. I can't not feel like the world's going to implode, or that something equally bad is going to happen. 

I need to take a deep breath — good air in, bad air out — and try to relax before I give myself a heart attack at the tender age of 27.