Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Addictions

(Please note that the following is satire. I'm not really that addicted. Really. I'm not. I'm just trying to be funny. Really. I'm not that addicted. Really.)

Okay.
Yes.
It's true.

We're addicted to the internet. If we had any doubts, the doubts were disspelled on Sunday and Monday, when we had to live without it for awhile. It's a pathetic thing to have it thrown so cruelly in your face, but you know you're addicted when:

* You pass the computer and note sadly that there is still only one light blinking on the modem. You sigh.

*You tell the children to stop making such an issue of this. The internet, after all, is an incredible, miraculous, ridiculous luxury that no Christian should ever expect, for goodness sakes, or take for granted, though we're allowed to thoroughly enjoy it, of course, provided we keep it in its proper perspective. You realize that you are (of course) lecturing yourself as much as the children.

*You call the cable office even though you know no one will be there on a Sunday. You get the answering service. They give you an 800 number. You call it, even though you have just contributed to someone else having to work on a Sunday. You want to kiss Charlie, the nice surfer-dude who walks you through three separate trouble-shooting procedures, sincerely doing his best to help you, as he really seems to feel your pain. You hang up after he mournfully tells you that all he can do is schedule you for a service call. You thank him, and will remember him in your prayers.

*You make up a reason to pass the computer and sneak a glance at the modem. Yup. Still just one light.

*You wonder what everyone else is blogging about today.

*You wonder if anyone misses you.

*You wonder if they're worried about you. Or are they thinking you're lazy? Or, maybe they understand that, since it's Sunday, and you don't usually blog much on Sunday, nothing's wrong.

*You feel bad that no one knows what's wrong.

*You pass the computer again. Even though only one light is blinking, you click on your browser. Just to torture yourself. You are, after all, an addict, and your existence is supposed to be pathetic.

*You wonder if something awful has happened to your blog in your absence. What if it got hacked and you're not there to know that? What if the new banner you just posted got corrupted somehow and your blog is displaying some horrendous image? What if your father was right when he told you, when you were eight years old, that you could "What if?" yourself to death?

*You tell Anne to stop being so dramatic about a day without internet. After she proposes her seventh "What if?" you tell her that she could "What if?" herself to death.

*You think of the seventeen other ways that you have turned into your parents.

*You pass the computer. I won't go into the ugly details.

*You sleep. You don't dream of the computer. See? You aren't really that addicted.

*Morning comes. You call the cable office, just to make sure that Charlie (love him though you do) got the service call scheduled. He did get the general message through. They schedule you for this morning.

*Later in the day, when internet service is back, you feel ridiculous about your level of joy at the sight of four solid, green lights on the modem. You try to act nonchalant in front of the children. Since you have nothing pressing to do, you might, oh, say, just check email. But that's all. And you won't be on long. You chide the children: "Was it really that bad to be without the internet for a short time? I knew we'd live through it." You turn back to the screen, and just read a couple of blogs before signing off.

*See? You're not really that addicted. You knew you could live without it all along.

8 comments:

Theresa said...

Oh, Karen, I feel your pain. I am actually cringing at the thought of having to go back to dial-up when we buy our new house in about a month. I am trying to mentally prepare myself, but it isn't going well!

Andrea R said...

This happend to us recently too. It was the worst hour ever! :D

Liz said...

Since we are still in dial up land, it's easy to stay a bit unaddicted. You see with two (and sometimes 3) computers in the house there are simply lots of times when the internet is unavailable for hours at a time. There are other times when we are awating a phone call that no one can go online (sometimes for hours at a time). In fact, the only time of day that I can count on being able to get on "the net" is first thing in the morning when the other computer users are either sleeping or at work.

That said there are rumors that we are going to get DSL soon. I think I'll have to watch out because addiction is certainly a real possibility.

Anonymous said...

I missed you, and I feel your pain. Ours stopped working last night, and when I called this morning, their phone had the following message: "If you are calling because you are having trouble accessing the internet, we are aware of the problem and are working to fix it." Click. Well, glad everyone's back, at least for now.

K said...

Ah, yes, those four little green lights... I remember the days when Prodigy dialing up at a whopping 14K was putting me in the technologically advanced realm. I was still nursing my now 11 year old son!

Glad your back and I pray you didn't grow any bald spots trying to control the withdrawal symptoms!

Anonymous said...

ROFL!! No, you're not addicted!! ;-)

I've never commented before but have been enjoying your blog for a few months now. You could say you're contributing to my new found adddiction .... BLOGGING!! Glad you're back!!

Anonymous said...

I have to check my e-mail daily, but ahhhh is it really like that for you ladies? Really? What are you going to do about it? I skim blogs once a week and have thought about starting one, but your blog post, though funny, is a good reminder to me.

Karen Edmisten said...

Thanks, all!

Anonymous ... no ... it's not *really* like that ... I meant for it to be humorous, and thus exaggerated. :-)

Although, I do rely heavily on the internet for all things work (freelance) related, so it can get dicey to be cut off from that.