Not having the internet at home is kinda like not having your husband at home. At first, you’re all “Hang on, where IS that guy? I miss him! I want him! Bring him back!” Then you hit your stride and are all “Actually, my life’s a lot simpler now. Less demanding. I have more time. And my house is cleaner!”
Such is my predicament of late. Since returning to Oz you see, we’ve been subletting a dear friend’s place. Which, while utterly fabulous, is also a little unstable, given that our friend isn’t sure of the timing of her plans to return…nor are we of our plans to stay…meaning that while we need stuff like landlines and internet, it seems a little silly to commit the ridiculous amounts of moolah which Telstra requires us to cough up (and before you go spouting advice on getting mobile broadband, I hear ya, we’ve investigated it and unfortunately due only to our geographic position…ain’t gonna happen) just to get connected.
So at present my routine consists of stealing pockets of time wherever possible to venture down to our local McDonalds, resplendant with its free wireless. And late night drunken teens. Add me in my “I’ve just had a day with three kids under 7 and I’ve got the rings under my eyes to prove it” attire and that is just one irresistably attractive trifecta right there.
It’s moments like that you start pining for the Internet at home again, reminded of the sweetness, wonder and easy-to-take-for-granted awesomeness it brings into your everyday life.