Whistling In The Dark

I work odd hours to beat the traffic. I’m in the office from 9:30-7:30 most days. Last in, last out. But this morning was different; there was a stream of cars leaving the parkade* which is not usual. I drove in, feeling like a salmon, and immediately noticed that all the lights were out because I am observant that way. Luckily because of the exodus I didn’t have to go down to the inky black depths for a spot. I made my way up the emergency-lit stairs to my office, and found it locked. The lock is a RFID lock. Which requires power.

Since no-one responded to my knocking, obviously there’d been a power outage (probably related to the construction next door) and everyone had been told that it would last for a while, so everyone went home. This would have been a great work-at-home situation, but I’d left my laptop in the office the night before. Just as I was heading down the stairs again to find someone with a good old fashioned non-electricity-requiring key, the lights went back on. Phoo.

I think this will be short day for me anyway; there are only two other people in the office (I called a few people to tell them the power was back on; why should I be the only one to suffer?) After all, it’s Easter, or Nawruz, or Ostara, or Mawlid-al-Nabi, or Purim**, or whatever else floats your boat, and even apart from that the house needs cleaning in a big way.***

* An unknown word here, did you know? It’s a “parking garage” here and most Americans find the word “parkade” unduly hilarious.

** If there’s anything that would encourage me to be a cultural Jew, it’s Purim. Commanded to get drunk, wear silly costumes and eat hamantaschen? I am so in!

*** Visitor Season begins this weekend.



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