The Next Big Thing

It’s a little pathetic and maybe a test. Instead of embracing the fried modem scenario a shot of freedom, the disconnection from where I spend way too much time looms large and three dozen “what if’s” flooded my headspace. Instead of recognising that I’m actually privileged to have at least a little access never entered my head. I merely paced up and down, Illogically trying periodically to see if there was indeed a fault or if it was rectified. When I called the Virgin Media helpline I got another continent. Earlier in the day, I’d called to renew my facility for the web domain and I talked to a guy called Peter. He understood me and I understood him. Perfect.

But Virgin, that was a problem and this guy wasn’t deviating from his script. He was helpful but fundamentally he had no idea what I was saying to him. Friends overseas or wherever will probably laugh but I do tend to modulate in order to be understood. On the other hand, some English speakers can have problem with my accent. So we’re left having a kick aboot in no-man’s land. It might take 5 days to get a replacement, assuming that the modem is the only problem of course. You’ll be familiar with my ability to take the worst possible outcome and multiply that by 10. This is the point I’m at now.

Tonight I’ll have to tholl the evening without what’s become like heroin to me and I’m hoping that maybe the cold turkey will teach me something. It’s not like I’ve got nothing to do but this alternative electronic hearth won’t be glowing in the corner of the room. Taking for granted the premise that everything will work always is a pretty stupid avenue. My predicament is not unlike that of the way everyone else on earth is surgically attached to a mobile phone. I can rail long and hard on that and often do. At least I’m not likely to bump into you walking along a road, or annoy you on public transport though. That must count for something.

There goes lunchtime...