Fall Back = Fall Apart

Fall Back was ridiculous for me, much more like Fall Apart.

Before going to bed on that fateful last night of daylight time, I had occasion to use the bathroom nightlight as a flashlight. It can be used that way temporarily, if required. I used it briefly, plugged it back in, and headed to bed. I swear it was working when I hied myself thither to hoped-for sweet repose.

I woke up at 4:30 to go to the bathroom and also to change my shirt. Sometimes, I have night sweats, and I soaked through pretty thoroughly on that night. Often these night sweats (not that I have them often, you understand) occur when I am naughty in the evening and have a snack. Chips will do this if I eat too many (not that I do that often, you further understand). I'll have you know that I didn't snack at all on that evening, but I experienced a darn good soaking regardless.

So, those are two awakening occurrences -- bathroom plus night sweats, the latter leading to rummage in the drwer for a dry shirt. There's a reasonable possibility that I would have handled both problems serenely and expeditiously and been able to return to slumberland, for I have done so before.

But lo, there was more. Much more.

Rememberest thou the nightlight? 

Well, I found it out of the socket and lying on the counter. How in tarnation could an electrical outlet eject a nightlight? What shocking event could lead to that, I wondered. I put it back into place, but the light did not come on. I tried plugging in other things that were at hand, like Sue's curling iron. No luck! To do all of this you understand, I had to put on the main bathroom light. I'll have you know, just in case you don't already know, that the blazing of lights is not exactly a sleep aid.

But there was more than just turning on the light. Oh yes indeedy. 

Thought I, the breaker must have tripped, so down two levels to the basement went I. We have a cat barrier down those basement steps, which I had to fumble with and then, of course, there was the need for more lights. Well, darn it all, nothing was amiss in the switchbox; all switches were untripped and in their places. There was nothing left to do but fiddle and faddle with the cat barrier and then trundle back upstairs.

Yeah, I was pretty well doomed to not regaining sleep by this point, but I wasn't done.

In some distress, I then proceeded to experiment more with the socket. It goes without saying that my fussing didn't work.

Upon returning to bed, I checked my watch. Ugh! It hadn't been 4:30 when I had awakened and when all of this foolishness' commenced, but it had actually been 3:30 due to the accursed time change,

It didn't take long for even a slow learner such as myself tp realize that I was doomed and that there would be no more sleep that night. So I got up. At three flaming thirty!

Hours later, when the lady of the house deigned to arise, I learned that she had pulled the nightlight out because it wasn't working when she had stumbled her way to the bathroom earlier than moi. So the electrical outlet had not miraculously ejected the light. If only I had known.

Sue also then recalled that the outlet in the upstairs bathroom is, somehow, connected with the one in the  downstairs bathroom. I kid you not! There is a little breaker on the socket in the downstairs bathroom. Down went she, to push that mini breaker back in place. Please don't @ me about the house wiring because I already know that this is stupid. 

Lo and behold! That outlet was back in working order. 

So dear folk, I don't want to hear any of your experiences on your time change morning. Just don't go there because I think mine was on another level.

Before I leave, I regretfully inform you that that nightlight is, somehow (and I don't know how) the problem, and its life, as we knew it, ended on that most bizarre of nights.