I’m Not Addicted to the Internet
But a dead modem showed my dependence.
My high speed, super-duper wireless modem thingy died of dignified old age and I spent all last week without internet connection.
You’d think I was the hapless protagonist in a Saturday matinee time travel movie, and I was ruthlessly flung back into the stone age.
Looking back, I believe it has been nearly eight years since I last experienced any loss of connectivity. We had just moved into our current home and, for a variety of reasons I don’t clearly recall anymore, our internet provider was unable to hook up our home for about a week.
I remember it as being a nuisance, but not too big a deal. I dropped in at a local coffee shop a couple of times, used the internet there, and all was well.
This time was definitely different.
It’s like it’s some kind of conspiracy.
This time, there seemed to be a perfect storm of circumstances to make my lack of internet a real hassle.
First, I’m not as independently mobile right now as I would normally be. Having broken my ankle in a nasty car accident, I’m still working on driving myself around. In consequence, dropping in on a local coffee shop to use the internet wasn’t an option.
