I survived forty-five days without heat or hot water (and still lack cooking gas as I don't have a stove), which, to most people may not seem like an ultimate sacrifice. To me it doesn't even seem like that a big a deal. Sure, it was an inconvenience and, toward the end of the ordeal for people on my street, the annoyance level boiled into frustration and eventually our tempers were all shot.
But, still. These are First World problems, and we should be thankful for roofs and running water in general.
During the continuing Gas Saga here in the Merrimack Valley, I became adept a heating water for baths, showers, dish washing, and general hand and face washing. I had it to such a science that I could accomplish many other things as I heated it all up, taking multi-tasking to new levels while boiling, microwaving, and using tea kettles and coffee makers to get enough bath/shower water heated up to spa-like levels in under thirty minutes.So this morning, while boiling water for tea, I find myself having autopilot issues. As soon as I start steeping the tea, I immediately pick up the pan (I didn't bother with the kettle this time) and start heading for the bathroom.
Wait. What am I doing? How programmed am I after six weeks that I have this bizarre urge, need, obsession to use up any heated water lest it cool down before it can be put to good use. Weird.
I've gone from fumbling around to figure out the best bathing-by-teapot system all the way to being an expert shower maker, and now I'm wracked with guilt when hot water sits by the wayside. I still feel it, hours later, like I've failed somehow by leaving hot water behind that could've done good in a gas-less world.
Argh. This is all the tea's fault. If I hadn't forced myself to enjoy a wonderful cup of black tea with honey, I'd never be debating the ills of Yankee ingenuity and miserliness; I'd never be suffering the agony of a guilty conscience hours later, still convinced that the water could've gone to great use if only I'd figured it out before washing my hands under the warm water from the faucet, which, to me, is still so unusual that I often forget I have the capability not to freeze to death anymore.
