Lights out.

There I was, watching a movie on my computer, when bam! Lights out. Power failure. So, I sat there, in the dark, wondering when the lights would go back on. After a few moments I: a) noted that my peripheral vision was better in the dark than when I looked straight and b) I was a little freaked out that there were no lights coming back on. Now I am not exactly afraid of the dark but when you live on a government laboratory, in the middle of a forest, all sorts of strange things start going through your mind. Some sort of terrorist plan to shut all the lights off so they could break in and steal important documents, that sort of thing. But mostly I was concerned that some one might take this opportunity to break in (and steal what? Our computer- the only thing of value in the house). So, finally, I got enough courage to feel my way to our bedroom, where Jason was asleep. After I laid down, I realized that I hadn't brushed my teeth, but since the lights hadn't come on yet, I was feeling too chicken to get out of bed again. It's funny how you can still be slightly afraid of the dark even as an adult. It's not just the dark, but the knowledge that there is no light to be found anywhere (except if I could have found our flashlight).

It made me think of a passage I read in Madeleine L'Engle's book, 'A Circle of Quiet'.

"I'm afraid of the dark- not afraid to go up the stairs in the physical darkness of the night, but afraid of the shadows of another kind of dark, the darkness of nothingness, of hate, of evil. So we rush around trying to light candles. Some are real: books are candles for me; so is music; so is friendship. Others blow up in our faces, like too much alcohol and too many sleeping pills or pep pills. Or hard drugs. Or sex where there isn't any love."

We only have 3 more sleeps and we move into our new apartment, I can't wait. I was just thinking of the luxury it will be of having my own washer and dryer in our new place after I trudge down to the laudromat today.