I think my tea has arrived. I got home yesterday at approximately seven-thirty-eight post meridian, to find a “sorry, asshole, you weren’t home” slip from the postie. “My tea!” I exclaimed, the blood rushing to parts of my body it has previously ignored. I ran up to the post office, only to find it closed. The slip said “available after 5.00 pm,” while the post office closes at six. That’s a rather narrow little window of time, isn’t it? Freakishly narrow. Perhaps just enough time to get a DeLorean up to 88 mph. I will speed home, dodging traffic like a friggin’ X-Wing, abandon my car at the side of the road when traffic gets too bad and proceed on foot. I will get there. I will get my tea. At least I’m assuming it’s my tea. It could be any number of things I’ve ordered. Westway to the World? Screener DVDs? Zines? I’m banking on tea, because that little bit of hope is all I have as I sit here, alone in the office on a Friday watching the clock tick down.
this epic week, part one
So this week has been quite lively. I started on Monday like the normal drone I tend to be. (If we really are plugged into the Matrix, I suffer from a severe lack of imagination.) In fact, Monday was so boring, so typical, I don’t even remember it. I did watch Frederico Fellini’s 8 1/2 that night. Excellent.
Tuesday was a day that appealled to that subversive, quasi-evil side of me that loves disasters, no matter how insignificant. The power went out at about one o’clock. Naturally, us civil servants were not allowed to go home, but rather were kept in more or less a darkened cage without food (since we all bring lunches that require either boiling water or nuclear power). I, however, was the chosen one. By some divine blessing, my workstation was hooked up to the backup generator, so I had power at my desk… and the INTERNET. If this was Lord of the Flies, I was king. There was a queue to boil water, request information, update their facebook status, and worship me. I felt the most power any one individual should be allowed to have in a democratic society. Should this have gone on past quittin’ time, surely it would have gone to my head.
I’m reminded of a good Joe Strummer quote: “Political people, to get elected you’ve got to be on a power trip, and you can’t trust anybody on a power trip. I can’t see a way out of this.”