Well, it wouldn’t be Christmas if something unexpected didn’t happen.
I was so looking forward to spending the afternoon packing up for Christmas, holiday music playing in the background. Ever since I was little I’ve loved Dr. Demento’s Christmas album, and I rarely get to indulge in listening to it without subjecting others who may be less fond of its delights. Having the afternoon off and the house to myself was a little window of Christmassy opportunity.
After some errands I rushed home, visions of packing up presents and singing off-key dancing in my head. I flipped on the hall light. Nothing happened.
Bulb, right? The bulb must have gone out.
I tried a few more lights. Nope. Not the bulb.
Anyway, the next few hours consisted of me going, “Agh, agh, agh! The power’s out! It’s getting dark! I can’t pack! No light! Why is my flashlight flickering light that? The heat won’t work! Screw this, I’m going to the airport tonight and getting a room! …Oh, wait, the lights are back.”
So basically there was a brief moment where it looked like I might get a very exciting pre-trip before the trip, but this didn’t happen.
Instead, I was able to stay at home and learn through the magic of television that Oliver Cromwell passed a law making it illegal to eat mince pies on Christmas day (along with other forms of pagan revelry). The telly claimed that because the law was never repealed, wanton eating of mince pies is still illegal, a fact for which I could have commended Mr. Cromwell. I could gladly declare him Glorious Knight Avenger, Bane of the Nefarious Raisin on that basis.
However, like many things too wonderful to be true, this too is not, as all laws passed by Cromwell were subsequently declared invalid and therefore didn’t need to be overturned.
To sum up: the lights are back on, and I still hate raisins. A Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.