22 Apr / Lights out
I could sense that the day was full of possibilities when I walked into the office this morning and the automatic lighting sensors didn’t instruct the lights to turn on.
The previous day we’d been warned there would be power cuts if we were lucky enough to be working at 9.30pm at night (I don’t know who these messages are directed towards, but not me obviously) but the power would only be out for 45 minutes.
There is one permanently turned-on light in our office and it was still functioning, so the power still being out was quickly overturned as a reason. Luckily this also meant the coffee machine was up and running so I had a hot chocolate and a latte while I pondered my options.
A phone call to the extension of the property manager was rerouted through to a cellphone number that I wasn’t expecting to be answered at 6.30am but was. I gave a startled message and then settled in to work in the dark.
It’s harder than it looks.
Since High School I’ve had and maintained the skill of touch typing. Little did I know that my well developed and long practised skill only worked as long as I have the ability to look at the keys from time to time. Turn the lights out and I’m reduced to the good old hunt and peck.
I’ve long been under the impression – mainly courtesy of Hollywood – that if you lose one of your senses, all of your remaining senses are heightened to compensate.
I’m not sure why, therefore, taking one sense away from me lessens all my other senses to throw the balance out even more.
Not much of a plot to build on there, I suppose.
The incredible unable-to-see-in-the-dark girl. Watch as her skills drop away one by one.
I fared better than another woman in our office who turned up early to work to find the office in total darkness, and asked her similarly affected podmate to have a nice romantic breakfast with her. Her podmate promptly phoned her husband.
I may be a useless typist in the dark, but I still know how to hit on people.