That’s Me In The Spot…Light

It was a dark and stormy night.


Ladies and gentlemen, sometimes times these things practically write themselves.


The less than pleasant time of 4:45 am came this morning a whole lot earlier than it usually does.  I know this because I was not only there, I was awake too.


Flashback to yesterday afternoon sometime around what I would say was approximately 12 hours prior to the offensive hour of the *ahem* morning in which I was unceremoniously *scoff* awake.  For whatever reason rocketed through my skull yesterday afternoon, I made the ill fated decision to pick up a can of Starbucks Doubleshot Energy Drink.


I don’t really drink it for the energy.  I like the mocha flavor.


Granted, drinking an energy drink for the taste is like reading the articles in Playboy.


Yet still, that was the original intent.


So I sat here drinking that mocha flavored tallboy along with a bottle of water.  At the same time, I was composing what I can only characterize as a brilliant soliloquy about a disappearing utility belt in one of the best cinematic offerings the year 1977 was able to cough up.


Energy drink slurped and guzzled.  Water bottle finished off.  Blog written and scheduled.  Bladder slowly filling.


Fast forward several hours to around 10pm when it was generally bedtime.  I wasn’t tired.  That was generally no big deal because I had slept in considerably later in the last few days and wrote it off as being caught up on the snooze patrol.


Two hours later, I had finished watching The Town on TNT and TNT-W with about a 30 minute difference between them.


It was a decent flick but not as salty with the language as it was when I rented the DVD.


Which brings a thought to mind.  Do all movies based in the Boston area have to be drenched and drizzled with an excessive use of the F word?


Good Will Hunting.


The Departed.


The Town.




Okay, not so much on one of those, but I’ve got to think Norm let one fly at one point or another when Woody asked him what was going on.


So there I was at midnight and still awake.  I turned off the tube and generally forced myself to sleep.  Don’t question the mechanics.  Just accept the premise.


A few hours later I was dragged out of my psuedo-slumber by the sound of heavy blowing wind outside.  Shortly behind that came Faith.  Just in case you didn’t know (you should by now), Faith is no fan of weather.  She reminds us of this when the rain comes by jumping on the bed with us, laying down close enough to you to push you off the side, and then proceeds to shake with all the power of…….


Something that shakes a lot.


It’s not a steady shake either.  It’s rhythmic.


When that happened last night, I made a mental note to myself right then and there.  Sleep was not going to come very easily tonight.  Be sure to pick up a Doubleshot in the morning.  Shortly after doing so, I went back to sleep.








“Randy, the power is out.”


Whenever the power goes out, the battery back up system for our phone beeps intermittently.  If there was *ever* proof that Pavlov was on the right track, look no further than subjecting a weather-nervous dog to strong winds and the constant beep of a battery back up system that makes a very specific tone.


“It’s almost 5.  You may want to get in the shower while the water is still hot.”


“Crap!”  I thought.  Fortunately I remembered a key element before I jumped out of bed in a fevered race for something warmer than a cold water wake up.


That water heater is gas powered.






So the shower began in the dark.  No big deal.  My eyes are usually closed in a slumberous state whenever I take a morning shower anyway.


I wonder how I’m going to get my contacts in.


That mystery was solved within a matter of a few minutes when the lights came on.  The offensively bright, unfrosted light bulbs which are strategically positioned above the mirror to make it that much more bright pried their way through my closed eye lids and onto my light sensitive blue eyes to announce that not only was the hour offensive after a night of little sleep, but the light was too.


A voice came over the organizational public address system.  “Power’s back on.”


*Pause for effect*




Let’s summarize.


Energy drink taken late enough to have an affect (it is “affect”, I looked it up).


Stayed up later than I should have, and limited the Z’s I was able to cop.


Storm winds helped to keep me from achieving REM, or any other Georgia born rock band.


The 9 3/4 toed Lab-Jack shook the bed like an AC-DC song.  All night long.


The power went out.


It occurred to me as my eyes tried to adjust to the blinding light that these events would make for a pretty boring blog.


Quality is job 1 and better isn’t good enough.


Nearly 16 hours later, we still haven’t reset the alarm clock.


Randy Tharp

TharpSter is a husband to one woman, a father to two kids, a master to two dogs, an occasional cubical occupant, and unable to make up his mind on an adequate theme for this website.

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