The other morning I got up at my usual time of 4:15 and shuffled to my computer, ready to greet the day. It was dark and cold and dank and a little bit creepy, but that didn’t matter because I had my internet, my world that never sleeps. Facebook, email, gmail, my newspapers, my favorite blogs. All was well.
That’s until I got that uh-oh feeling. There was a rather nasty message on my screen, something about "can’t find website, please try again.” Oh God, it couldn’t possibly be true. My internet couldn’t possibly be down. After all, I’m a good person.
I sat for a few seconds in disbelief and then I restarted my computer, praying the good old off-on application would do the trick. When that didn’t work, I started plugging and unplugging cables and looking at the little blinking lights on the receiver thingy. I went from Firefox to Explorer, hoping one of them would be at fault. They weren’t. Next, I turned on the TV to see if my cable was working. It was. For a while, I just sat sadly at the computer, pushing my mouse and fingering the keys, pretending to surf the net, similar to the way little boys pretend to drive while sitting in their daddies’ inert cars. I thought to call my son, Billy, on the west coast because he can usually talk me through these things, but thought better of that stupid idea as it was just after midnight there.
I decided to go ahead and get my bath, hoping to calm myself and find comfort with warm water and a supine position. But alas, calm and comfort were not what descended upon me. As I lay there naked in my tub, I worried about my kids who, although they were all sound asleep, might wake up and post something on Facebook and when I didn’t comment might think I was dead or worse, that I hadn’t paid my cable bill. And in thinking about my cable bill, I began to worry about my bank account, which, because I couldn’t check my balance, might have been infiltrated by someone who stole my identity (after shutting down my internet) and I’d end up in debtors' prison or pushing a grocery cart down Ponce de Leon Avenue and having to use the public library to get online. And then there was the weather. How would I know what to wear to work if I couldn’t check the weather on weather.com. Just looking and sticking my arm out the window certainly wasn’t going to do the trick. OMG! It might be somebody's birthday! How was I to know without Facebook?
Come to think if it, we might have had the end of the world while I was sleeping. That's probably what caused my internet to be out. The fact that my cable was working was no indicator because the station my television was set on was HGTV and I doubt if they have anyone on staff in charge of Armageddon, not like I'm sure The Huffington Post has.
I finally pulled my saturated self out of the suds and despondently dragged my wet body back to my forlorn computer, thinking maybe I could at least write something on a Word document, perhaps a sad poem.
Hello World! My internet was back up, right there on my computer where it was supposed to be, proving I really am a good person.