NOTE: This harrowing tale was originally recorded using
the ancient methods of a pencil and paper. It was transcribed Monday night in a
format easily readable by others (because no one can read my handwriting) and
set to autopost throughout the week.
Translation: Jessica was unable to watch “My Name is Earl”
reruns on Netflix after a nasty windstorm knocked out power for several days,
so she continued to blog on paper. She watches too many apocalyptic movies, so
the second she has access to Netflix you will find her motionless on the couch
rewatching “The Stand”, because that’s what she’s been comparing her
experiences to all weekend (even though they didn’t have smart phones or iPods).
Oh, and also the #Anniesmove episode of Community.
PART 3
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| Saturday's paper. |
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| The Lancaster Meijer had flashlights left. |
Saturday 9:30 p.m.: Normally I’d be feeling really bad for
Lizzie right now, but she’s not here. I’m sitting outside and there are
fireworks going off in every direction. They don’t bother me. I like the smell.
I’ve had a good meal, a chicken bowl at Chipotle, and I’m a
little more prepared, so I’m feeling better. But there are still no lights, and
might not be for quite some time…
