An Internet Service Story: A Day Planned Around It, But Didn’t Have It (What?) Saturday 12/6/14, 6:30 AM: A sleep-in-day… therefore my conscious mind snapped alert, 6:30 AM sharp, like a dog at his owner’s bedside, leash in mouth, eye level, face-to-face, undulating, wagging, twisting. (“Come on, get up. Morning’s outside. We can go for a walk! Aren’t you excited, I’m so excited. It’s daylight. It’s cold and there’s air and, and, and we can run, or walk. You know. Real fast. Get up!”) Perpetual twisting, tail wagging, leash now on floor, mouth open, panting, hot dog breath, guarded whimpers, slight yelps. (“Come on! If you don’t hurry up we’re gonna miss it!”) Slowly, one lid squints open, I peer out, try to focus, fail, snap lid shut, roll over, shimmy down and pull the comforter over my head. (“There’s a lot of stuff we can do. Don’t you wanna do some stuff? GET UP!”) 8:30 AM: Climbing the stairs to my studio. Tea, spectacles, geared and rolling. (“I’m going to get so much done today and it is going to feel so great!”) Open the door, walk-in, close door behind me, (“Ooooo, 57 degrees.”), turn on the heat, turn on my computer, clean my glasses, put them on, look at my computer. No internet. (two words under my breath, directed at Clear, aka Clearwire) Midnight, last night, ready for bed, decided to quickly Google a topic in order to settle a $20.00 bet between my husband and I. Third time in 24 hours, found internet service non-existent. (“Wonder if it’s been out all night? It’s been out a dozen times within the past two months, so… good chance.”) Not blinking, I stood there staring down the ascending row of bars and the little yellow triangle with the black exclamation point plastered over them. (“Too early for a libation.”) Steam I’d gathered to complete a long task list with daylight to spare released like an air-filled balloon let go before tying. I plopped down in my chair staring glassy-eyed at the yellow yield sign and began mentally listing the jillions of things I depend on the internet for, and how somewhere around ’96 or ’97, the internet wasn’t much more than a novel curiosity. (“Anyone remember “Netscape Navigator”, the first internet browser?”) Millions now depend on it for conducting business (“Probably billions, actually.”) and when systems fail, business halts, account access is lost, communication halted, and people can’t find out what Kim Kar… I don’t know’s a _ _ is doing that second?! To be clear, I’m not one of those people. It’s so easy to take for granted what we have, and I don’t want to do that. I’m aware of and very appreciative for all I have, and still, it’s easy to let things slide. Life is so busy. I appreciate every individual who has liked this page, made a comment, purchased my jewelry, messaged to say “hi” or ask which brand of sawblades I use... and I want to take this opportunity to tell you I appreciate you, each one. Thank you very much for being here. And if I had internet service, I might actually get to share this with you. 8:30 AM: Guess I’ll have to work on jewelry making instead of bookkeeping. Shoot. 9:45 AM: Assisted in jumping dead car battery. Still no internet. 11 AM: Post office is now open for short Saturday business hours from 11 am to 1 pm and I’m leaving to mail packages. 12:32 PM: I’m back, and still no connection to the web of information and those connected to it. The anticipation is consuming. Shoulders back, chin up. Soldiering through. (“Wonder who will play me in the movie?”) Going downstairs for lunch. 1:48 PM: Nope. Still nothing. So irritating. (“Okay, quick - think of one of the many things you have to be thankful for. Easy. I’m thankful none of my jewelry making tools depend on the internet to work. And I’m thankful I’m not answering customer service calls for Clear today. Oh! I’m thankful no one from Clear who is responsible for the horrendous internet service we pay for is close enough for me to tear their tiny little head off.”) You can always, ALWAYS, find at least one or two things to be thankful for. 3:10 PM: Still no internet, but I did break a stone. 4:49 PM: Double take. Can’t believe my eyes. It’s on! (“Wooo! Okay. Haul a _ _, because it could vaporize any second. Fifty-some emails, 14 FB messages, 6 Etsy convos. Start with sending tracking info to those you shipped packages to today. Done and send!”) 5:32 PM: Double take. Yah, it’s off again. 5:33 PM: I get up from my desk chair, walk to the window and look out. Can’t see a thing. It’s darker than a black steer’s tookus on a moonless prairie night. (Wish I could take credit, but it’s from “The Big Lebowski”.) (“It’s still early enough to get in a couple hours of jewelry work…”) For half a second I light up, and then slump. My enthusiasm has waned. A lot. 6:12 PM: Internet service has returned. Cheers all around, accompanied by a lack of faith that itll last. Nonetheless, I feel celebratory and it’s now a universally acceptable hour to indulge in a libation. Going downstairs for a glass of pinot noir. 7:13 PM: Does a rubber cork (“maybe it’s plastic?”) signify a poor quality bottle of wine? Googled it (“Good example for why the internet is so important.”) and apparently, some sommeliers say they can decipher, by taste, a wine corked with a non-cork cork and wine corked with a cork cork. (“Sorry.”) I am led solely by my taste buds, so I could really care less. (“I should really post this and call it a day, as my inhibitions are really getting relaxed and it could be detrimental for me, for my business, to continue writing.”) Internet service still existent. 7:46 PM: Okay then. Should internet service be available tomorrow, please expect a reply to your comments, emails, messages and convos. 7:51 PM: Thank you and good night. 7:53 PM: xoxo 8:01: (I hope I dont regret this.)
Posted on: Sun, 07 Dec 2014 04:02:59 +0000
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