Last night, as I settled in for what comfort I could manage while entirely without power (it was warm and humid, I wasn’t able to use any of my sound generators to cover up the noise of my neighbors, and I was entirely without access to my CPAP machine), I wound up spending a lot of time thinking. It’s difficult to avoid when you can’t fill the air with podcasts like you normally do because you need to save your phone’s battery, when your various electronic entertainments are all inaccessible, and when you’ve got no way to position a candle so that reading a book won’t strain your eyes more than your day job of staring at monitors already has. Not a lot to do other than consider spending my tablet’s battery to read or sit and think about what it means to be without power in the modern era. Which is pretty tempting, to be completely honest. I do enjoy a bit of inward contemplation and there’s nothing quite like staring out the window at the unquiet night sky as you consider modernity. As I went to do this, though, my mind already full of thoughts about an impenetrably dark sky, the darkness of a world without city lights, and the slow hum of people doing their best to live on despite the sudden darkness and silence of the world around them, I found out that this little idealized version of my situation didn’t actually exist.