'My Time Without Internet'

Surprise! I am thrilled to inform all of you that my dark days of not having internet access are...over! The wonderful, glorious, hat wearing repair guy came today, took one look at the wiring, and BAM! (Insert glitter, a whooshing sound effect, and a few electrical sparks.) 

Now that this crises has passed, it would be easy to move on, let go of old hurts, and resume my business of writing about useless things. However, instead of doing that, I feel I need to share what my life has been like without blogging and the internet, and how I have done everything within my power to return to all of you. I warn you, these things are hard to look at. They depict a desperate, raw pain, and the great lengths that one can go to try and diminish that pain. Gather your tissues, and join me as I undergo healing from

 'My Time Without Internet'. 

In the beginning, I was optimistic about my situation. I used my brain waves to send positivity signals to my computer. Focusing my energy, I tried to write numerous, witty blogs. To my dismay, this plan was an utter failure, and only resulted in a headache. 

I began looking around and noticing all the people around me that did have access to the world wide web. And I was angry. They sat there, so cozy in their houses, warmed by the internet, so full of knowledge and power. Meanwhile, I was stuck outside in their bushes, vulnerable to the elements and gross bugs, just craning my neck in to see what was happening on the monitor. 

The streets became terrorized by my panic. I found old ladies in crosswalks, and attempted to give interactive Facebook status updates. It was a low point, begging random strangers to simply give me a thumbs up and say, "like". Because the truth is, they didn't like. Not at all. 

Refusing to give up, I forced myself to recognize that there was once a time without internet, or computers, or tweets. Filled with heavy sorrow, I began to chisel out some ideas on a rock I found in my backyard. It was an agonizing process, and lasted all of ten minutes. 

And this, my dear readers, is where I fell apart. Yesterday afternoon, while you were going about your daily business, I was on the phone for the 200th time with my internet provider, or rather non-provider. After attacking old ladies, trespassing on private property, and writing illegibly on rocks, I had had enough, as had my new neighbors. And finally, miraculously, someone finally clued in to how dire the situation really was. They took in my despondent soul in between sobs, and promised me that they would, indeed,

 make it all better.

 They told me that they would send out a repair man, and that they would not be allowed to leave my house until everything worked. I asked them, "So, what you're saying is that I have permission to hold your employee hostage here, until you meet my demands?" After a stunned silence, I heard a cough, and then Tony (my customer service representative) said, "Well...uh... yes. I guess." Luckily for all involved, the critical issue of internet connection difficulties was resolved without further drastic measures. 

Well, there you have it. A detailed account of my life during this past week. The accuracy of the events you must judge for yourselves.I will say that Tony is 100% real, as was our conversation. Poor guy. Anyway, now that all is fixed, I hope to be writing more consistently. Oh, and if it was your grandmother that talked me through my Facebook panic attack, she was absolutely lovely. You're very lucky to have her.