We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Life…

Hurricane Sandy. Superstorm Sandy. A tropical storm on steroids. The biggest storm to ever hit the metro New York City area and New Jersey.

By whatever name, Sandy lived up to the hype. I should know. I live in the area Sandy crushed. It whacked the Jersey Shore, Staten Island and parts of Queens like a mob hit in broad daylight.

I was without power for a week, and I was woefully underprepared for it, like many others. But I’ll leave the “I told you so’s” to my bossy older sister.

If I had had a full tank of gas, I would have hightailed it to my sister's house in Pennsylvania, which escaped the storm’s wrath. Alas, I didn’t and so I stuck it out in my cold, dark apartment.

But I was so much more fortunate than others who lost everything. My roof held (despite a thrashing from a neighbor’s tree) and I was able to heat some canned soup and could take a shower. My greatest hardship was having to trash a refrigerator full of groceries. Irksome only because my Italian heritage hates to see food go to waste. But several stores in town were open so I was able to eat.

Since I’m a tech dinosaur, I still have a land line that miraculously worked. I did become something of a charging station zombie, going from one place to another to charge my smart phone…my only connection to the outside world (although I was glad to see I wasn’t the last person on earth to get a smart phone).

It was, to say the least, disconcerting and sometimes depressing. I spent way too much time thinking back to when my college boyfriend dumped me, and rather brutally, too. He and his crew of friends tore me to shreds for whatever reason I'll never know. Not good for the soul.

The whole experience also got me thinking about how we react when our daily routine is suddenly, and through no fault of our own, torn asunder.

Whether we like to admit it or not, we humans are creatures of habit. We like the routine of going to work, shopping on certain days, watching our favorite TV shows, having a roof over our heads. But we hesitate to confess that because it makes us seem, well, rather dull and boring. We should embrace change and be spontaneous, right?

However, I think when people talk about change they mean the good kind of change, the change that is self-generated: You quit your job for another better one; you decide to leave a relationship; you pack up and move of your own accord. Or you win the lottery. That’s the good kind of change.

What they don’t mean is when a storm leaves you without power or worse, homeless. Or when you get laid off and are jobless for a long stretch. Or when your partner leaves you. That's a change you didn't want or ask for.

When that kind of change happens, we are left feeling helpless, frustrated, sometimes depressed and downright cranky. (I only broke down once when I complained to a utility person. She hung up on me. Otherwise, I was pretty calm.)

We like to think we are in control of our fate, but, sadly, we are not. We cannot predict how severely a storm will hit our homes, or when our bosses will decide to terminate us for economic reasons (or whatever reason they can think of).

Nevertheless, we like to feel like we are in control and perhaps having a daily routine gives us a sense of comfort that we have a good life that nobody or nothing can take away from us. That if we do a good job, our companies will keep us. That if we are good people, the people we care for won’t hurt us.

Sorry if I’m getting too sentimental and philosophical. But I do believe that we thrive when we do have a routine. A life of constant change would be too chaotic to endure for very long. We all need some semblance of stability.

Yes, we do like to change it up a bit. We go on vacations. But when we return from the tropics or a trip around Tuscany, think how good we feel when we get back home and get to sleep in our own bed again.

Yet even when harsh change is forced upon us, we find a way to survive. Eventually, we find another job or another way of making ends meet. We brave another relationship even after somebody has hurt us.

And homes will be rebuilt, although not as swiftly as we’d like. The Jersey Shore will be restored and come back the way it always was: lovely (in its own way), a bit tacky and a heck of a lot of fun; it truly is the soul of the state.

When I was sitting in my dark and cold apartment, I would curse myself for not being better prepared. But now I’m kind of proud that I did stick it out. That I made it through a tough time, just like I did when I was laid off and found another job.

So while my douchey former bosses and nasty ex-boyfriend may have wounded my soul, I still survived.

Although I don't think I'll be eating peanut butter or canned soup any time soon.