Internet woes

I had arranged for the Wi-fi guy to arrive the very day we moved so we wouldn’t be without our beloved internet for even one night but, as luck would have it, the guy didn’t show up until the following week. For five days, we had no TV, no cell phone service and no Wi-Fi.

It got ugly.

(credit:giphy.com)

(credit:giphy.com)

Now, I have lived without them before. When I was a teen there was no internet and, back further, I can remember days when TV meant only a couple of channels. I know what it’s like to not have these luxuries. I also remember driving around in Europe in a car without seat belts. My point is, I like these things. They make me happy.

(credit: pixgood.com)

(credit: pixgood.com)

Things seem so much easier now that we have Wi-Fi, cells and roughly a million TV channels. How did we manage to do research before the internet? How did we share gossip? It seems like the internet is necessary for just about everything. These five days, I felt completely cut off without it.

When the guy showed up to connect us, I was beyond desperate to see him.

Buuuuut…I was also deep in a book.

So, I ignored the sound of the bell and let my hubby answer the door.

(credit:quirky bookworm.com)

(credit:quirky bookworm.com)

 

 

The 4 Issues of my holidays

I had some time off coming and, with incredible wisdom, I decided to take it now.

My ideal holiday involves resting, reading and writing. In any order. The food can be iffy, the coffee weak, it can rain all it wants. I just need my books, my laptop and I’m good.

Since my days off didn’t coincide with my hubby’s, he’d be mostly at work and I was going to be alone in the house. That was just fine by me. I envisioned a week of days where I could read and write to my heart’s content.

Alas, the reality was somewhat different. There were some…issues.

Issue #4: Hubby rented 2 seasons of Sons of Anarchy.

I don’t normally watch TV. I avoid it like the plague because I know how addictive it can be and how much time it consumes. On the other hand, Sons of Anarchy is a show about bikers who rarely follow the law. How addictive could that be?

I watched one episode (one!) and had to find out what happened. Problem was, one more episode and I had to know if Oppi was going to return to the club and if Gemma was going to accept Tara….That meant watching more episodes…

Issue #3: The doggies

My doggies are both protective and fluffy, but intelligent? Not so much. Otherwise, Ocean wouldn’t have decided to chew on the metal fence post and lose a fang.

One appointment at the vet revealed that not only was she fangless, she was also vaccine-less and, since she managed to break the tooth and not lose it, the root was still there and had to be removed. That meant an operation. And that meant 3 more visits to the vet because we might as well take River in and have his shots done.

It got to so I started to know the receptionists by name.

Issue #2: Selling the house

We’ve been trying to sell our house since last June. The fact that it hasn’t sold hasn’t really bothered my hubby until this week when it was suddenly imperative that we sell. Pronto.

An emergency appointment with our realtor later, we had a plan in action. The house was fine, he told us, but we should change the bathtub and the colour of the bedroom walls and the cushions on the sofas. He insisted on this last point several times.

We ran off to find cushions that wouldn’t offend the average person (neutral colours) but would still be an accent in the living room (bold colours with patterns). We also needed show-curtains. They look like curtains but they’re only there for decoration and are basically useless. They might look like they can cover the window but they’re too small. They can’t cover a toothpick.

With my incredible expertise and my hubby’s tendency to validate me, we ended up with cushions that are both too ugly for words and curtains that were too short and narrow even for decorative-curtains.

Issue #1: Another visit from Pauline

Pauline had, of course, a solution for our house. She showed up in another car-matching outfit and with eyebrows even thinner than I remembered.

“What you need is rugs,” she said wiggling her microscopic eyebrows. “You can’t have too many. They’re really in.”

I wanted to tell her that hair was also in, especially in eyebrows but I chose to be civil and kept quiet.

My hubby, the therapist, seemed enthralled by her comment. “That makes sense. Is there more you want to say about that?” he asked.

Maybe I can go back to work early.

On the importance of my inner child

I’ve done nothing all day. I didn’t go to the gym, I didn’t do any work, I didn’t even write. I just sat on my couch and watched episode after episode of CSI and Modern Family. I think my brain has shrunk about five inches but it was delicious.

My husband, the therapist, was confused until I told him I was ‘self-caring’ and ‘feeding my inner child’. Therapists consider everyone’s inner child sacrosanct and there’s nothing more important to them than self-care.

As soon as I said those words, his eyes widened and he rushed to prepare dinner–just in case my inner child was hungry. I did feel a little guilty when I saw him folding laundry but I got over it. I’m going to go read now.

Caring for my inner child is so important. 😀

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