Perhaps I should begin with the Serenity Prayer. The events of the past two days have been sobering: I am an Internetoholic. On Wednesday, powerful thunderstorms streaked through Rhode Island unleashing the usual host of biblical plagues, along with some thoroughly modern retributions such as power loss.
We only lost power for a half an hour or so. As one dog cowered in the garage, and the other hid in my closet, I was feeling in control. I was still in emergency preparation mode due to our recent dry spell. (See Water Woes) Re-filled containers of water stood ready and waiting; we’d stocked up on Poland Spring. The power blinked on and off for awhile but returned full force before dinner. Just as we finished eating, a thunderstorm raced through the area. I counted six seconds between flash and clash, mostly just for fun. The very next bolt struck somewhere in the woods out back. Awesome. Power dimmed, surged, dimmed, surged. We lost internet connection and the TV flicked off.
We’d gone two whole days without having to repair something in the house. Over the last six weeks, the air conditioning, toaster oven, refrigerator and water pump have died. Water has streamed forth from the ceiling. I’ve maintained my equanimity throughout the inconveniences and the repair bills. But yesterday when I woke up and found that the Internet was still down, my morning routine derailed, I felt a wee bit desperate. I called our cable company and spoke to a technician, BEFORE my first cup o’ jo. An hour of troubleshooting revealed that the modem was dead, no doubt zapped by the many power surges we’d experienced. The thought of a day without email, blogging, visiting and posting on various sites gave me a mild case of the DT’s. Until the modem meltdown, I’d never heard of an ethernet cable. I suddenly wanted to plug it into my veins.
I went to Best Buy and scored a new modem. I’ll spare you the ugly details about the installation, other to say that with the help of an extremely patient telephone technician named Jimmy, I somehow managed to restore Internet connection. When The New York Times appeared in my browser I nearly wept. I’m pretty sure Jimmy was pretty close to tears himself.
I don’t spend that much time online, I swear, but I guess I have a problem. Much like my morning coffee, I’ve gotta have it. Be honest, dear readers. Ask yourselves: how many blogs do you have bookmarked? How many websites do you frequent each day? Can you spend a day or two or three unplugged?
I didn’t think so.