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Lazy Friday - cellophane — LiveJournal
the story of an invisible girl
Lazy Friday
It's my friday off work, and I've been incredibly lazy with it so far. I started out okay: I got up at a half-way decent hour, had some breakfast, got together some things to donate to the Vietnam Veterans, and left them on my porch. Then I was glancing through my friends page when I thought to myself, "Y'know, I'm still sleepy. I think I'll go upstairs and get back in bed."

I came up the stairs, and there were all three of my cats! Two on the bed, one by the dresser. "Oh, you guys had the same idea, didn't you?" I crawled into bed, disturbing one cat who ran off. The other one stayed to cuddle though. I'd thought I'd read for awhile or something in bed. Instead I stroked the cat for awhile then took a nap.

I had the weirdest bad dream. I was at home, cleaning up my kitchen. My dad and sister were outside (although they don't live with me). I was running the dishwasher, but something in it clogged the disposal or the pipe. Rather than stop to discover what the problem was, I let it keep going, hoping it would resolve itself. It was making nasty noises, but it seemed to be working, to my relief. Then, more nasty noises. The dishwasher started moving back and forth. Then water started pouring out of the top. I was trying to make it stop, but it wouldn't. Water was spilling out of everywhere.

There was a (previously nonexistent) open hole in the wall behind the dishwasher, and water was streaming out of it. I grabbed a flashlight, conveniently located right next to the dishwasher, and looked inside the hole. An electrical outlet, which had originally been the hole's purpose, had been pulled inside by the rush of water and was lying in the stream, sockets down in the water, still wired to the house, still live.

At this point I decided I needed to shut off power to the kitchen. So I took my flashlight and went running down into the basement, calling for my father to come help at the same time, thinking how convenient it was that he happened to be over during this disaster. I found the circuit box, but had trouble identifying which switch was for the kitchen. It looked like it had already popped open, but I wasn't sure.

I simply pulled the whole circuit box down off the wall for a better look. The label was dirty, and I wiped it off with my finger. Now I could see that the kitchen's circuit was already open, so the power was off there. Relief. Then, water started spilling from overhead, through the ceiling. No, the kitchen isn't above that part of the basement, but it was a dream, okay? Maybe the whole first floor was flooded by then, I wasn't up there. My dad had arrived by this point, and I was really freaking out.

Lots of water was splashing right into the circuit box, and it was smoking and sparking. Even though it was off the wall, there was still a thick wire running loosely out of the back, the house's main electrical feed. I had set the box down, and was just totally panicked, clasping my hands, hopping up and down, full of directionless adrenalin. "Daddy," I said, "I think we need to turn off the main power!" I never call him 'Daddy'... the fact that I used that term is a sign of my terror.

The main toggle switch in the charred box had somehow gotten twisted around, so it was facing toward the inside of the box. I was darting back and forth helplessly, looking for a stick or something that wouldn't conduct, so we could use it to get the switch turned back toward us to turn it off. My dad donned this huge pair of elbow-length leather gloves, which I guess were good enough. He said, "I'll turn it around, you switch it to off. Be sure to look at it beforehand, because it might already be off, and you don't want to switch it on." I was grasping a pair of needle-nosed pliers, ready.

He twisted the switch around, and it already was switched to "off". I told him so, and we were both very relieved. He then took a long strap that was attached to the box, hooked it over his neck, and started dragging the box into the middle of my basement. I don't know why. The water was still pouring into that room, maybe that's why.

When we went into the open part of my basement, it was spacious, with a high ceiling, and many shelves. Unlike how my basement actually is, more like a warehouse. There were electric lights illuminating everything. I asked him, "If the main power is off, then why are the lights working??" He didn't know, so I asked my sister, who had just appeared, to go upstairs and make sure that nothing had any power. She came back down, reporting that there was no power anywhere, so I felt a little reassured.

At this point my panic was subsiding some, but I was still frightened. Plus, I was realizing the consequences -- that my kitchen, my electrical work, really my whole house, was ruined. I woke up, not with a panicked racing heart, but with that cold aching misery you feel after a nightmare in which your whole life has changed dramatically for the worse, and there's nothing you can do to fix it. It was awhile before I was able to shake that feeling, and reassure myself that it wasn't real.


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cynnerth From: cynnerth Date: June 7th, 2002 11:48 am (UTC) (Link)
Is that what they call a Wet Dream? ;)

Glad that dream wasn't real and everything is fine!
renniekins From: renniekins Date: June 7th, 2002 12:16 pm (UTC) (Link)
Hey, yuck! Thanks though. (:
encorecrazay From: encorecrazay Date: June 7th, 2002 02:11 pm (UTC) (Link)
Now that the nightmare is over, you can play softball tonight without worries.
renniekins From: renniekins Date: June 10th, 2002 07:59 am (UTC) (Link)


Yup! Although we lost, I scored an RBI. Fun game.
guingel From: guingel Date: June 8th, 2002 02:06 pm (UTC) (Link)
oh, geez. that's wild.
It's kinda interesting though. When we're talking about people to be pitied, you think about the really big problems. But in some cases, stuff like this can cause a lot of unhappiness. Not because it's as bad, I think. . . maybe because we lack perspective--people don't remember how things can be worse. I don't know. Maybe I don't have anything intelligent to say. . . It just kinda intrigues me how like, really rich people never seem happy. I think a lot of it is because wealth doesn't bring happiness, because it alienates real friends, and I think a lot of it is that people won't let themselves be happy and enjoy their wealth.
read 5 comments | talk to me!