I'm bathed in a cold sweat. As my nausea increases, I notice a tic begin to develop on the left side of my face. Somewhere in the preternatural stillness, a clock ticks like some impersonal harbinger of doom.
Wait, I don't have a clock. Where's that coming from?
It's now been four days without a home internet connection. This is intolerable. Life has become a hollow, meaningless shuffling routine.
I've tried filling the void with books, music and DVDs, but it isn't working; somehow, it just makes it all worse (and no, please don't mention TV -- I still have some dignity).
I mentioned my plight to The Drones (at work) but received no sympathy. They seemed to think it was some kind of luxury - yeah, like sugar in your coffee, or Weetbix without milk. Go on, you try that and see how you like it, you sanctimonious Luddite.
No, this really is too-- oh hey, this thing has games on it too! Beauty, that's more like it!
See you in sixteen hours.
