The day the lights went out

This past Sunday I decided to hit the gym with the roomie for our long run of the week. We are training for a 10 mile run, (even though we missed the deadline). But that's besides the point. Nearing the end of our workout, I receive a call from the boy. "Power went out again." (Again meaning, twice in the same week.) In the last week our complex has experienced three fire alarms and two power outages.

Now, I don't mean to quote fairy tales here, but come on...hasn't anyone heard of 'The Boy who cried Wolf'? I think it's safe to say that if there were ever a real emergency here, 98.76% of the occupants would sit inside and keep going about their business. Of course during the first thousand fire alarms, the boy and I freaked out like the world's ending, and took them very seriously every time. This, of course, included getting shredded to bits by Lily cat, shoving her in her kennel, and trudging down nine floors of stairs. Just to get downstairs and realize it was fake, or in a different wing, or a burnt pie, or anything that is the smallest thing ever to set off a fire alarm. I can now see why our neighbors just peek their heads out, check the corridor for smoke, and once they see nothing, they close it and try to drown out the sound of the alarm. Which, by the way, sounds like a semi-truck mixed with the loudest, shrillest beeping you've ever heard.

Back on track. After boy informs me of the situation, I think, 'Great. Three o' clock on Superbowl Sunday. Superbowl starts in 2.5 hours. The Superbowl, mind you, that the Green Bay Packers are going to be a part of, and being from Wisconsin, it was required to watch. No power. Boy won't be happy.' I just hoped that by the time we get home, it's fixed.

Nope. We walk into our lobby only to realize the elevators don't work, and there are people stuck inside. Glad we weren't part of that mess. We walk across the entry way to the stairs, and this is when I regretted running that extra half mile. Nine floors up, and we are almost hyperventilating and pretty sure we are going to die. We made mental notes to run the stairs more often as cross-training. We make it into our apartment, and realize our water isn't working that well. I thought it was the worst thing ever, and boy had to help me put it in perspective. At least it wasn't a zombie apocalypse. I find a way to sponge bathe in the shower, and I decided it was time to study with the guys upstairs, three floors.

I walk out of our apartment, study gear in hand, and this is when I realized I am still afraid of the dark.
That's a dark tunnel of doom right there. And this was the corridor I had to traverse to get to the stairs.
Now if that doesn't scream horror movie, I don't know what does. I felt like I had just entered into a scene from Left 4 Dead.

I get brave enough to walk up the stairs. There was zero light, and I was using my tiny little blackberry screen to guide me. I was waiting for the zombie to magically appear, but it didn't happen. I finally make it to their floor, and walk down their hallway. Somehow I ended up behind someone with a flashlight, so he guided me halfway, until we split paths. Their hallway was completely dark, and silent, so I tried to get to their room as soon as humanly possible. And then, it happened...

Something grabbed my ankles and grunted. I was pretty sure I had just met my zombie. Turns out, it was just the guys I was going to study with.

I'm planning my revenge as we speak.