I lost my internet connection the other day.
My ISP was most helpful, but after a one-hour phone diagnosis they said it was my router. It had died. Well, so had I, figuratively, although I did not know it at the time – but I went through all the grief stages in miniature – disbelief, sadness, anger, acceptance, despair. I went to my favourite wholesale computer shop and got another, and rang the ISP for instructions on installation. They’re good, but something had led them astray – sunspots, sunflowers, sunburn – I still don’t know – but they were not reachable until an hour ago, and although they apologized profoundly and got me back on line quickly, the two day hiatus has left me shaken and bereft.
Has my life come to this? So dependant on unseen electronic waves and their translation into recognizable bits that I grieve at their loss? I’d get a life, but what would I do without the web? Lord, I’d have to go and make friends face to face.
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