Oh, how I wish I was kidding.
Due to various problems, I still have no internet access at home. My net life is currently being supported by kind cafes with free WiFi, and that’s obviously only during actual business hours.
It’s almost like being struck deaf and dumb. I’m out of the loop; cut off from the world because I can’t get up at 4am and check my email or tweet bad haikus about insomnia. I dare say it’s already starting to affect my disposition – I’m getting moody, irritable, and restless.
Yes, this is patently ridiculous. I am aware of that at least.
I’ve reread a series of murder mystery books – five in all. I’ve played Planescape: Torment for the hundredth time. I watched two and a half seasons of The Big Bang Theory, and I’m starting to plough my way through whatever episodes of QI I can find. But what I haven’t done – what I just can’t do – is sit down and write!
The very fact that I’m offline is interfering with my concentration. I can’t focus on the Novel at all, even though this would be a perfect time to get more editing done. In cafes, I have other things to do than write. It’s INFURIATING, totally and utterly MADDENING.
My kingdom for a quiet place with high speed broadband…