"Battery low" said the white pop-up box on my computer.
Then, as if to mock the fact that I couldn't plug the battery pack in fast enough, the battery icon on the bottom right corner started blinking, "28 minutes." I had 28 minutes until my computer shut down. Twenty-eight minutes until I had no access to email, the Internet. I had 28 minutes until the 11-inch I call my savior left me because it died. Died. And this, my friends, was the beginning of the end of the world. I had 28 minutes to figure out how to get my battery pack charged and plug into my Sony VAIO so I could connect. And then, my co-worker knocked on the door.
"We have a problem," she said.
It appears that it's not my battery pack, it's the electricity in the flat. My friend and travel partner, The Missus, tried to blow us up. Travelers tip from London: always use your electronic adapter, but check to make sure the wattage is sufficient, otherwise you might blow up the device. (To The Husband, if you're reading, I advise buying safety plugs for your outlets before the wife returns home. I've banned her from plugging anything in while she's still in London). Here's what happened:
She plugged in her hot pink flat iron (using an adapter) and sparks started flying. Upon unplugging the outlet from the wall , post-flames, she went for a run and our other co-worker was left with the unfortunate task of breaking the news to me:
"Nothing works," she said.
My friend the Missus came back with Starbucks - a true truce, if there ever was one, at 9 a.m. I was already on the phone with AT&T trying to get them to help me reconfigure my phone but as usual, they were completely useless. I got the damn thing to work myself, and afterwards we found the fuse box. Thankfully, the electricity is working again and I can reconnect with the world and the world, as I know it, is not coming to an end. Whew! We celebrated by heading to shop and sight-see...
No comments:
Post a Comment