First of all, I should let you know that the name of my “power” company (and I use that term loosely) is PEPCO. This information will make it easier for you to know what I mean when I write, “Fuuuuuuuuuuck you, PEPCO.”
I had a whole depressing paragraph all written here about the storm and its aftermath, but I deleted it. It’s been a bad week for the DC area. Instead I decided to follow my motto: When you have a choice between laughing and crying, try to laugh.
Like on Monday when I was at a friend’s house when her power came back and her son had the TV on within seconds and exclaimed, “I would hug the Wii if I could!” It was adorable. Let’s focus on the adorable.
Or inanity. We can focus on that too. For instance, I was coiling up jumper cables on Monday after jumping my broken car when a PEPCO meter reader walked by. When he saw me, you know, standing in the heat trying to make my car work, he doubled back and asked me to make sure to trim back the shrubbery in front of my meter to make it easier for him to read it next month.
It took everything I had to not punch him in the face.
Seriously. That guy needs to work on his timing.
Oh, and if it’s not bad enough that PEPCO was out reading meters (and making and airing pro-PEPCO television commercials) when hundreds of thousands of people didn’t have power, they also stole our fireworks.
That’s right. My county has called off all county-sponsored fireworks on the fourth so they can focus on storm recovery. Because if you don’t have power, it’s a better idea to stay miserably at home than pull together as a community at a holiday celebration. I’m blaming this on PEPCO.
This includes the fireworks that are two blocks from my house. You should have seen my kids’ faces when I told them. They’re little kids and they already hate PEPCO. I feel like I’m raising them right. But I don’t know yet what I’m going to do for them to make the fourth special.
It looks like this is turning out to be Camp Stimey: Crushing Disappointment Week.