I am being punished, of course. I’m sitting here in the Yankee offices in Dublin, New Hampshire, with no power, save for that here in the laptop. No Internet. No washrooms. No telephones. After being in New York City yesterday, this blackout here in New England — word is that a lot of the region is without power — has taken me from the centre of the universe to its very fringes in less than 24 hours.

I’m being punished because, ironically, the last visit I made to Dublin happened to be the same day that a blackout struck New York City, Toronto, and most of the northeast. Except for New England. I poked fun at, or at least pointed out the “hey, I’m here on the fringes and I have power” irony of, the situation. My chickens have now come home to roost.

At the risk of repeating much of the sentiment that was expressed by others during the Big Blackout in August, I’ll point out that a company like Yankee simply cannot operate, at all, without power. Everyone has a computer on their desk, from mailroom to CEO. The phone system needs power to run. The washrooms need power (because Yankee has its own well). To say nothing of lights, fax machines, slide tables, and all the other trappings of the modern office.

So everyone has gone home, as of 2:45 p.m. I’m left, almost alone, in the middle of the afternoon with one of the only working machines, albeit one that’s not connected to the Internet, after the UPS battery powering the Internet switch went out.

I might go out and catch a matinee. But it’s hard to know which direction to travel to find a movie theatre with power. Wish me luck.

Update, two hours later: The power is back on. Everyone except Jamie, the CEO, and Ken the PR wizard, have gone home. It’s quiet here. But daylight, so no ghosts.