We just endured seven days without internet.
We were aimless.
Our social network dried up. Our ability to access information at the click of a mouse came to a screeching halt. Each morning we’d make the three block trek to the neighborhood pool, where, suffering in the intense heat we were forced to use free internet. Grueling.
All week as I wandered around the house, my hands twitched for lack of activity. My brain slowed. I received information at a snail’s pace requiring that I wait longer than a few seconds for answers.
I stumbled down the stairs in a daze, as faded memories of a bygone era floated through my muddled mind. Not so long ago if I was lonely I could stand on the cool grass outside and chat with a living, breathing neighbor. Presently, I know the name of my neighbor’s dog. Back in the olden days if I required illumination I’d thumb through a giant book called the Yellow Pages, or call my local librarian. Yet, there I sat, in this modern age, curled up in a little ball, starved for lack of social network non-interaction yearning for virtual advice provided by some fraud who invented wikipedia.
Gratefully wireless has been restored. Life is as it should be in the Monaco home. But, I must admit it’s more than slightly disconcerting to realize how demanding I am. How terribly painful it is to wait – for even a few seconds. How counter-culture slow has become.
Perhaps that’s why Internet starts with the letter I.
Google it and find out – on demand.