The power company has been trying for nearly a month to schedule a time to shut down my electricity so they could work on a broken utility pole. They’ve been thwarted (thwarted!) numerous times by bad weather, and every time that happens they send me another letter with a new date on it. They seem determined to get this work done, despite the chancy conditions. It’s obviously something that can’t wait until the rainy season ends, if that ever actually occurs.

So when the lights flickered and blinked out late this afternoon, I cursed PG&E. (And the darkness. I cursed the darkness, too, and it felt good.) And then I came to my senses and realized the power company would most likely not choose a drizzly Saturday evening, and the day before Easter at that, to do its repairs, no matter how critical they consider them.

And then I cursed PG&E again for being unable to maintain the flow of electricity from their massive grid into my humble abode. I phoned their emergency line and was informed that they were aware of my outage and expected to have power restored between 10:00 pm and 12:00 am, April 16. Tomorrow night? They’re going to keep me in the dark until tomorrow night?

There was still barely enough light to do a sudoku puzzle, so I sat by the window and worked on my big puzzle book. As time went by, I grew more hopeful, if only because it came to me that 12:00 am, April 16, was actually tonight at midnight, and not tomorrow night. And then, about 45 minutes after the power went out, it came back on. All that cursing for nothing. What a shame.

I didn’t miss much, other than the top of the first inning. But I had visions of a night with no heat and a day with no running water. When I lose electricity, I lose a lot more, including my sense of being secure in my own home. And I suppose I should prepare myself for the actual planned outage to do those very important repairs, because it will keep being threatened until it is carried out.