The Curious Incident Of The Lineman In The Night

I should be sleeping right now. I really, really shouldn't be up.

Yes - I know that it's nine-o-clock. But right now is my bedtime.

Sunday morning I received a phone call. Sunday morning at 3:30AM.
"Nick, can you come in to work? We need some help with a storm out of town... in Bakersfield."

"Absolutely! I'll be right there."

Except that my work truck was in Fresno, at the local headquarters... Fortunately (although some could disagree, considering the time of day) my wife needed to take our daughter to Bakersfield for her doctor checkup, anyway. Hey. That's great. You can just leave a little early, and we'll drive down to Fresno, together. Then I can pick up my work truck, and go to Bakersfield, as well.

We hurriedly packed bags, as if the Gestapo might be upon us shortly. Somehow, it didn't bother my daughter at all, that we were up in the middle of the night, driving through the pouring rain. She was standing in the bedroom, clapping, while Mom and Dad threw clothes in their suitcases.

I made it to work, and my wife and daughter made it to the Grandparents' house. I repaired electrical services from 7 in the morning until 1 in the morning. I repaired and replaced wire, from homes in East Bakersfield, to Grimmway Farms in Shafter. It was exhausting, dirty, and rewarding. I even had my picture taken in the local paper (back page of the front section - or so my relatives tell me). By 1 AM, Monday morning, we were out of work to do. They sent us along our merry way, back North.

Now I'm writing this by my fireplace (don't worry, hon, no smoke came out) as snow falls on the Sierras. I'll be going to bed soon. After all, I have been up since 3 AM on Sunday (excepting a small catnap in my truck, earlier this morning), which means that I was at work for 26 hours. Awake for 30 hours.

I should go. My pillow is calling.