I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but sometime before Christmas (yes, that long ago), the outlet in my upstairs bathroom let out a puff of smoke and then simply ceased to function. I wasn’t alarmed or worried about safety; I just felt annoyed and a little inconvenienced. But I found a workaround pretty quickly: I got an extension cord and plugged it into an outlet in the next room.
The problem is, my workaround worked so well that there was no real urgency to actually get the outlet fixed. My “temporary” remedy created only a bit of an eyesore, but not a genuine nuisance. Well, I guess on Fridays when the cleaning lady came I did have to unplug stuff get the cord out of her way. And, I suppose I also needed to jostle the bathroom door for it to close around the cord. But, in my mind anyway, compared to finding an electrician—and having to be there when he came—the outlet didn’t seem to be a big deal.
I admit I thought about it every time I was in the bathroom. I’d see the extension cord and I’d think, “I need to deal with that.” Or my kitten Lotus would tug at the cord on the floor and I’d distract him with a toy. Now that I think about it, I guess I did spend a lot of energy on the broken outlet. I lost time thinking about it and feeling guilty for not dealing with it. I kept promising myself I’d make a call tomorrow. Or the next day, for sure. And all the while, in the back of my mind, I was hoping it wouldn’t end up being a major hassle. My house was built in 1939. Some of the wiring is new, but some is still the original. I didn’t want to hear that I needed to upgrade my electrical. I didn’t want to make decisions, and I sure didn’t care to spend money on something as unglamorous as electrical supplies.
Then, one day last week, I met a friend for a drink after work. The outlet must’ve been top of mind for me, because it actually came up in the conversation. While I was lamenting, my friend picked up his cell phone and—before I knew what he was actually doing—was talking to an electrician friend of his on the phone (he’s in the construction business). And I had an appointment for a service call the very next morning.
Sure enough, and right on time, Mr. electrician arrived. It turns out the outlet simply needed replacing. Not the wiring. Not the whole house. Just that one outlet.
And then the funniest thing happened. In addition to having power in the bathroom—from a source that was actually in the bathroom—I found that I too, had more…energy. I woke up earlier the next day, and I actually felt a little lighter. I didn’t have a sense of shame or guilt every time I was in the bathroom. I didn’t need to shoo Lotus away from an extension cord any more. I could close the door to the bathroom effortlessly. And all of this made me think about some of the other “energy leaks” in my world, and about the slow drip, drip, drip of vitality that happens with procrastination. Last year I experienced it during tax season (I eventually applied for an extension which made that whole energy drain even worse). I’ve done it with all kinds of things from dentist appointments to touch up paint, from tire rotation to oven cleaning. And I know that every time I put something off, I am costing myself. Sometimes the price of procrastinating is money, but there is another, more insidious cost: the loss of precious and unrecoverable energy.
So, after this outlet incident, I am committed to taking my power back. I am not going to merely think about writing a blog about what I’ve learned, I’m going to write it. And then…I am going to post it.