So earlier this afternoon I was trying to tend to a little bloggy business after Alex and I got home from some errands, and after I tried to access my email for about the fifth time, I thought, Hmmmm, perhaps something is awry with the interweb.
At which point I said what I always do when computer problems present themselves: “HUSBAND?!?! HUSSSSSSSS-BAND?!?!”
He loves it when I do that. It’s such a soothing interlude in the middle of a stressful workday.
After some basic troubleshooting, he realized that the problem wasn’t something we can fix (and by “we,” I clearly mean “he”), so he called our internet provider. They’re scheduled to be at the house tomorrow morning, and it’s pretty much a given that I will twitch and tremor with abandon betwixt now and then.
Because did I mention that the television cable is out as well? ON THE NIGHT WHEN “Top Chef” COMES ON?
And here’s the thing: I didn’t really have anything all that urgent to do on the computer tonight – just some emails I need to follow up on and that kind of stuff – but I’m telling you, the realization that I can’t access email at my house makes me a little glossy eyed. I mean, I might as well be a pioneer or something. In ye olden days.
It’s like I’m Laura Ingalls Wilder, only without the sassy bonnet and the cute, calico-print dress. And, you know, a wagon.
So about two hours into our completely involuntary technology detox, I started mumbling something about “Panera, need to get to Panera, if I could just get to Panera with the laptop I could CHECK THE EMAIL.” And lest you think I’m completely crazy, there’s a specific email I’ve been waiting on, one of those where you sort of cross your fingers everytime you hear your inbox ding with a new message, and not being able to check my email has left my OCD up the proverbial creek without, well, a high-speed internet connection.
And who would ever, EVER want to be up a creek without a high-speed internet connection? NOT MY OCD, I’ll tell you that much right now.
Anyway, after supper when I looked at D. with my left eye blinking fast enough to generate enough power for a small kitchen appliance and asked, “So. Do you want me to go to Panera now? Or after Howard’s bath? Because the email? I need to check the email,” he immediately said, “Now! You can go now! We don’t mind! You can go now!”
My OCD is fun for the entire family, as you can tell.
Of course when I finally checked my email I didn’t have The Message I was waiting on, but I did have – HOLD ON FOR THE IRONY – an email offer for telephone service from our internet service provider / cable company.
I wanted to reply and tell them how – funny story! true story! – tonight I actually had to LEAVE MY HOUSE to check my email and use the internet, so if they can promise that same level of service with the phone, then SIGN ME UP!
Oh, life is funny.
And I guess I’m going to go home now and read. Or weave thread on a loom. Or churn butter. Or something.
There’s just not a bit of telling.
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