Falling Down

There's been a lot in the papers these past few days about internet addiction – the story of the woman who decided to go on holiday and who resolved not look at her emails. She lasted two days. What if someone was trying to contact her? What if something had happened?

I have had my own mini version of being uncontactable when a telephone pole in the field next to our house fell down last Sunday, taking with it our phone line and ADSL. A few gusts of wind or maybe a collision with a truck and our connection to the outside world was suddenly broken, the two wires trailing on the ground a reminder of how fragile the link we take for granted really is.

At first I was bereft, adrift, scratchy. I felt rudderless. But I also got a lot of work done, freed from flitting from site to site like a demented cyber butterfly instead of focussing on what I was supposed to be doing. And then I felt liberated. Like the old days, you remember? Before emails and URLs and networking.

Our connection is back now, courtesy of a surly Italian Telecom worker. But I hope the lessons stay with me.

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