24 March 2007
So I had all this stuff I wanted to write, about SXSW and America and lifelong ambitions and backstory and then I got home from work on Monday night, felt really crappy, and went to bed early when the internet went a bit flaky.
Then Tuesday was one of those days where you just shouldn't have got out of bed.
I got up, got dressed and went to the client site where I was supposed to be working that day, and promptly sat in reception for an hour, because there was a misunderstanding. The more time went on, the worse I felt and so I phoned work, left a message at reception and headed home, with the intention of working from home for the rest of the day.
Then I got on the bus, but missed the stop, and then stayed on because I realised it terminated near another Tube Station, except I missed that too (because I'd never been there and assumed it terminated at the station, and it didn't, so got off that bus, and ran across the road in front of traffic to catch another bus which said it went to a tube station I knew I could get home from.
Then I got off one stop later, when I saw the tube station I'd previously missed, and got on the tube. Living at the end of the line has its advantages, so I didn't fall asleep and miss my stop.
Then when I finally got home, after all that hassle, I discovered I had no internet.
At all.
So I phoned Orange, who were useless and unhelpful and told me to call back.
So I called back, and got someone nice, but ultimately useless and unhelpful, and this pattern continued for five days, with me getting progressively more frustrated, and losing my voice more and more in the process.
Five days. At home. With a cold. And no internet.
Reader, I was ready to reach through the phone and rip someone's head off and use it as a fruitbowl.
Til a couple of hours ago, when it magically, came back from wherever it had gone.
"don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got til it's gone" indeed.
Still, I did manage to watch three films, half a series of Studio 60, almost a whole season of West Wing, read a novel, three magazines and crochet half a wrap, as well as sleep for more than 14 hours a day, so it wasn't all bad.
Just frustrating. Like having your arm cut off.
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