Herbert

The building my company occupies happens to be the one freak facility that actually has electricity on a block otherwise blacked out.  It's a good thing that my office is open, mainly because I can have human interaction with people who aren't related to me.  It's important to exercise your vocal chords and jaw muscles and mental thought filters, lest you forget how to talk and carry on a real conversation, you know?

Every evening since this whole ordeal began, I've been lucky to have company.  Yesterday, a couple girlfriends swung by with enough junk food to feed a small army.  In the broad daylight of the morning, I saw chocolate cookie and Doritos crumbs sprinkled atop the dining room table.  It's amazing what you can't see by candlelight.  Especially when you're busy stuffing your face with Reese's peanut butter cups.

I learned this afternoon that our building's staff has been camping out this entire time in one of the vacant apartments!  Cots, they said.  I am a privileged idiot for not piecing that together on my own.  I can't imagine what it's like not to see your kids for a week because your job requires you to stay behind and take care of rich needy people.  I am so grateful for their presence and perseverance this past week.  Their patience has been extraordinary.  Even the gruff ones that usually do the bare minimum, they're much more human this week.

There is one female on the building staff.  She's more proper and prim than not, so it didn't seem that far off when she mentioned that she's been crashing at a resident's apartment, separate from the boys.  I totally feel her; who would want to share a bathroom with a dozen grown men without their wives to keep them in check?  Gross.  I asked Marilyn if she needed anything.  PJs, she said.  Only, uh, I stopped wearing proper PJs a long time ago.  It's usually a tank and undies for Julia.  Still, I climbed the stairs back up to my apartment and threw some oversized tees into a bag.  I rummaged through my closet looking for some tights or comfy pants that might fit her, but Marilyn is considerably hippier than I and all my loose lounge pants were in the laundry pile.  I grabbed a pair of mid-calf knit socks and underwear (don't worry - they were both new with tags still on).  I handed her the bag with a note including my phone number in case we could provide anything she might need during her stay.  She nervously thanked me with a hug and promised to launder everything before returning the items.  Like, really, Marilyn?  Stuck at work for a week straight taking care of us brats?  Please don't worry about it.  I don't know how she's doing it.  I'd be a heaping mess by now if I were in her shoes.

I'm dreading sitting in the cold and dark with candles for another night, but the good news is that ConEd will restore power by 11 pm tomorrow night.  At least that's what they say.  Tonight will be the first night I'm on my own.  I told a friend at work that I will be drawing a face onto a volleyball and naming it Herbert.  For company.

(Won't you be glad when the electricity's finally restored and I finally shut up about it?)