What would you do if you didn’t have electricity or transport for a day?
This isn’t a hypothetical question, folks (MAYDAY! MAYDAY! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!): it’s the situation Terry and I know as “tomorrow”. And it’s to be a day without – yes, you guessed it – electricity or transport. GAH. And no, this is not a sponsored post, in which someone is paying me to do a “back to the dark ages” experiment, from which I will emerge with a new appreciation of how the less fortunate live. I mean, AS IF you could pay me to be without coffee and the internet for an entire day! No, it’s just a vaguely annoying combination of events, which means we’re going to be forced to “unplug” for real, because…
First we lost the car.
Not literally, obviously: that really WOULD be a problem, would’t it? We know where the car is, thankfully: it’s in the body shop (not the cosmetics company, the ACTUAL body shop…), where it’s been for over a week now, er, having work done on its body, I guess. Can you tell I’m not much of a car person?
The body shop told us it would take four days, which we took to mean “at least a week” and which has turned out to mean “probably closer to two, really.” Now, this was inconvenient, obviously, but given that we both work from home, it wasn’t nearly as much of an inconvenience for us as it would be for most people. I mean, we have a 20 second commute, we have our groceries delivered each week (because why go to the supermarket, when it can come to you?), I have an ASOS premier membership… it wasn’t like we were going to starve to death, was it? Or even have to go without that awesome dress, if we really felt we couldn’t get through another second without it, and we might not, people: we might not.
So, anyway, without the car I figured we’d just hunker down, get some work done, have a bit of a boring week (or two), sure, but meh, what can you do? (Other than NOT booking the car into the body shop for two solid weeks, TERRY.)
We found out about this a couple of weeks ago, via a letter thrust through our door by an official looking woman with a clipboard, who posted the letter then ran away as fast as she could. And no wonder, either, because:
“Dear Homeowner,” said the letter…
“We regret to inform you that we’ll be switching off electricity to your street for a full working day, in order to do essential, and yet totally mysterious work, which we’re not going to tell you about. We understand this will be an inconvenience to you, but we also don’t really care, so it sucks to be you, doesn’t it? You may be wondering what will happen to all of the food you have in your fridge and freezer during this time? We’re wondering that too, so if you ever work it out, let us know! Have fun trying to live without electricity for the day!
Your Friendly Neighbourhood Electricity Company.”
Or words to that effect, anyway.
So, at first we thought this would be no big deal. “We’ll just go out for the day, and then catch up with work in the evening,” Terry said. “It’ll be fun.”
“We could also use it as an excuse to completely clean out the fridge and freezer!” I added, excitedly. “That’ll be fun, too!”
Then we remembered we weren’t going to have the car that week.
So, no car AND no electricity – which, just for the benefit of those of you unfamiliar with the concept of “electricity”, means:
NO HEAT. (Yes, I know it’s spring: the weather apparently doesn’t, though, so it’s still freezing…)
NO WORKING COMPUTERS. (We do have a laptop, but the battery only lasts for around 20 minutes, and “one between two” doesn’t really work when you’re both self-employed, in computer-dependent jobs)
NO FRIDGE OR FREEZER.
DID I MENTION NO COFFEE?
So, just complete and utter deprivation, basically. (Yes, I’m joking.) (OR AM I?)
Oh, and as some of you know, we live in the middle of nowhere, so there’s no handy coffee shops or internet cafés (are internet cafés still a thing?) where we could go and work for the day – and even if there was, the “one laptop between two people” thing would be a bit of an issue there. (As would the fact that I have NO IDEA how people manage to sit and work in coffee shops all day, because I basically require complete silence, and no other people around me, or I’m useless. I guess the coffee would come in handy, though: I mean, I can live without electricity if I have to, but coffee? That’s just cruel, isn’t it?)
We DO have public transport, of course (Yes, even in Scotland!), but it’s not the greatest, so unless the car’s back early, we’re choosing to use this as an experiment in “what to do without electricity for the day”. I’m telling myself it’ll be fun. I mean, some people pay good money to “unplug” for an entire day, don’t they? It’ll give us a whole new appreciation for the things we normally take for granted (Like COFFEE, for instance…), and by the end of the day we’ll have learned important new survival skills, like how to build a small fire in our back garden, and how long the battery on my phone will last when the phone becomes my only link to the outside world. I could write a novel by hand! Or darn handkerchiefs by candlelight, like someone from a Jane Austen novel! Or do something else that I haven’t thought of yet, because, let’s face it, we’re probably just going to walk to my parents’ place, in search of hot beverages and internet access, aren’t we?
Just for fun, though, tell me: what would YOU do if you had no electricity, no transport, and you lived in a small village, in the exact middle of nowhere? GO!