The hazards of making nachos in a rooming house!

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So, I'm pining. I'm craving. I'm hankering, even! I want some nachos. But I've gone out to eat several times this month already, and the only good nachos are an hour's drive away. No problem! I have the ingredients. I'll make my own! So I layer the tortilla chips. Then I place the green peppers, the red peppers, the snap peas (I like 'em okay!), and the onions. Lastly, the Romano and parmesan cheeses (freshly shredded, naturally!). Then I take the corn chips. Lather, rinse, repeat! Ewww! Wrong analogy!! But, you know, I place the corn chips and layer as before, and alas with the aforementioned ingredients once more. I'm proud of myself. :) And I'm tasting this masterpiece already! I go to the microwave, open the door, gingerly place my culinary creation, and shut the door. Then I press 3. . Normally, this sets in motion the 3 minutes of nose-teasing melting which would precede my victorious indulgence. But not tonight. Nope! After I tapped the 3, my radio shut off, I lost one of my lights, the fridge clicked off. And the microwave blinked off as if to say "I don't THINK so!!!" Grrr. I go down three flights to the basement and look at the circuit breaker. I see "room 11" and visually compare my switch to the rest of the rooms. Nothing seems out of order, but most assuredly it is! I grumble my way back up 3 flights saying, "s&$!, not again..." and resign myself to calling the property manager, Brian, even as I'm kinda nervous about bugging anybody. No answer. Hang up nervously, not wanting to leave a message. I suck it up, and I suck in a breath and dial again. I leave an apologetic, somewhat rambling message and hang up. Then, as certainly as half my power took a siesta, it returns. Yes, damn it. I pressed 3 again! I WANTED THOSE NACHOS! And while the light did dim, the microwave began to hum and the plate did turn! 3 minutes later, I took em out and, like one of Pavlov's dogs, I did begin to salivate! I looked upon my creation. I ate. And it was GOOOOD. ;)