And so, since EVERYONE and his mother has a blog, I've decided to create one too. It seems a good way of keeping in touch with people I've not seen in ages as well as killing some time when I should be earning my paltry salary.

I live with a German chap and a Belgian girl. The German chap is most un-German about most things BUT when it comes to electricity, he morphs into the führer. The Belgian is a disaster in general.

Anyway, picture this...

It's 11pm on a Monday. I decided to have a shower (I'd been to the gym but forgot to take a towel so couldn't shower there). I got undressed and stepped into the shower cubicle. Pressed the button and adjusted the temperture. About 20 seconds into said cleansing, the shower stopped, the lights went off the heater went cold. What to do?
Taking my life into my hands, I precariously managed to fumble around in the dark for my dressing gown and headed to the fuse box which lives in my bedroom. Nothing seemed amiss. Fuck. Looked out the window and saw that the houses opposite had light.

I promptly got in to bed and fell asleep. The next morning, I was awakened by a scream...

The German tried to make a cup of tea but as we don't have a coal powered kettle, was out of luck. I said, 'oh, there's no electricity. It went off around 11 last night'.

He was livid. LIVID. Mild mannered German was mild mannered no more.

Now, my question to you is, what would you have done:

a) Do what I did and go to sleep?

b) wake up the housemates and have a confab.?

c) Ring the electricity company place and demand they send someone out?


Go on...say you'd have gone back to bed. That's what all the people I've asked have said. The German contingent think I should have woken up the housemates IMMEDIATELY and then called the electricity place. DISASTER! Who the fuck was going to come at 11pm? I repeated it like a mantra but to no avail.

Things haven't been the same in J Street since then...