Apocalyptic Apology

Last December, I wrote a poem, Rewiring An Old Starship, which included this picture:
My friend, Willie, opined that my work was metaphorical --renewing contact that energized happiness and reliability. A favorite actor, Harry Goaz, wrote a comment saying I looked very brave. Apparently they thought I knew what I was doing. And I did, mainly.

I was trying to connect a 220 volt line to a different breaker to accommodate a new hot water heater, but there were a lot of wires in that box. There is a distinct difference between electrical service wired in parallel, in which each appliance operates on a discreet circuit, and series, in which they do not. I knew this, and completed all connections accordingly. But I didn't know the entire country had not yet complied. Edison and Tesla began the upgrade over a century ago on the east coast and I thought it was done.

Last week I flipped the breaker on and thought everything looked good. Then NASA posted this photo:

As you can see, everything east of the Mississippi is fine. City lights are bright, festive, Christmassy. But darkness in the west is broken only by about a hundred people with flashlights. All I can say is, I'm sorry. There were indications I ignored, like the streetlights dimming when I use my electric shaver. But I will put off shaving until daylight now and be carefuller in general.