With Angel currently MIA, you’re stuck with me again. (Lucky you. Two PC posts in one week!) Okay, so she’s not actually AWOL or MIA, since we know where she is, and all codependence aside, she is allowed to do things without Playfriend approval.
We're just missing her, that's all. We're a party of five, darn it. Four is an odd number for us.
The sad and tragic fact is that Angel is without internet access. (Collective Gasp!) And has been for several days, bless her heart. If she’s lucky, she’ll be back online sometime today.
I’d be nuts by now. Oh, who am I kidding, if my internet goes down for longer than two minutes, I go into withdrawal. I’d be homicidal by now.
Hello, my name is Problem Child and I have an internet addiction.
I’m not addicted to online gaming or porn or even chat rooms. It’s mostly my email I can’t live without. I check my email obsessively. Obsessively. If I click “send/receive” and nothing shows up, I click it again in disbelief. Granted, the Playfriends are responsible for a lot of the email in my in box, but if I don’t get 30 or more emails, I feel unloved. Forgotten. Disconnected from the universe and my people. Alone in suburbia.
I don’t know how I lived before email. Heck, I don’t know how I survived before high speed access. I’ll never forget how DG worked so hard to convince me that high speed was something we needed. He snared me with the “we’ll try it for a month and if you don’t like it, we’ll cancel it” trap.
Yeah, right. That’s how crack dealers catch their new customers too. After 30 days of high speed bliss, there was no way in hell anyone was taking that away from me.
We are a family of three. We have three computers—all of which are networked together on a wireless router so we can all access the internet at once. Yep, even AC. Have you ever seen a five-year-old bemoan a slow web page? It’s downright funny. All of a sudden, I become my grandmother—“When I was your age, Missy, we didn’t even have a computer. We had to play games on boards with pieces. And we had to make our own sounds as we did.”
Dear dog, get me my cane.
So have you sold your soul to your internet service provider? And how soon after Angel’s connection is restored do you think she’ll show up here?