No Internet Service...

I am not addicted to Internet.

I am not addicted to Internet.

The above two sentences might put me on the naughty list this year because I found out last night that I've been lying to myself and to others!

We were in a hotel and had already checked in when the little clerk said, "Oh, our Internet service has been giving us some trouble. The tech support is looking into it and it should be back very soon."

No, problem. I am not addicted to Internet. I can do without it for a little while. I will get all the components ready for my newsletter and do some editing. Besides it will be on in a little while.

Two hours later, my work was done, my brain was fried from edits and I wanted to check the numbers on my latest release to see if my publisher was going to kick me to the curb or buy more books from me.

I connected and got the message: No Internet Service.

So I took a nice long bath, rubbed in a little extra face cream on those pesky wrinkles and got into some comfy pajamas. That would do the trick for sure. My computer is not used to seeing me in "real" clothes. It only recognizes me in pajamas so I was sure the service would be up and running.

I sat down and hit the right buttons. Evidently, it did not like me in pajamas that night either. Maybe it was punishing me because I'd taken it from home without even asking if it wanted to go but I got: No Internet Service again.

Still no problem. I watched two reruns of Reba, ate both Twinkies in the package and didn't even think about the calories. If there is no Internet, there is no calories in my books.

Tried again: No Internet Service.

I still wasn't going to cave and admit that I was addicted. No sir! I just went on to bed an hour early and forgot about the thing.

Yeah, right!

I had nightmares about never having service again. When I woke up the third time sweating and crying, I hauled my fanny out of bed and tiptoed to the computer so as not to wake Mr. B...and checked it: No Internet Service.

By morning when the tech support still didn't have things fixed in that great computer chip room in the sky, not even the cute little Texas shaped waffles made me happy. I was ready to lay down in front of the hotel desk and pitch a pure old southern hissy, screaming the whole time that I wanted Internet. Forget about those lords a leaping and five gold rings. They could take them all back. Just give me the Internet.

I am addicted to Internet.

I am addicted to Internet.