The Abyss

Last night I looked into the abyss and the abyss was me.

Despite four bars on my AirPort icon, I had no internet connectivity. This also meant no phone or cable. (I got the theme song to Gilligan's Island stuck in my head with a modern twist: No phone. No internet. Not a single thing on TV.)

As I stared at the Firefox icon on my desktop with longing, I wondered what to do. I spent about 30 minutes restarting my computer, rebooting the cable box and resetting the wireless router - all to no avail. I turned AirPort off and on and off and on in hopes of catching it at just the right moment.

"What was happening in the world?!" I wondered with mounting panic. Had someone emailed me about one of my freelance projects? Did anyone comment on that witty yet informative Facebook post from yesterday? Had anything noteworthy happened since 9am? I was lost.

I cursed my cheapness, which has prevented me from paying for a smartphone data plan, as I texted my husband to tell him we'd have to actually converse that evening, rather than our usual nighttime activity of sitting on the couch and watching TV. My cell rang back immediately. As I explained the situation to him, I could hear the undisguised resignation in his voice as he replied feebly, "okay." Having a conversation meant he'd probably end up listening to me talk about my feelings all night. But what other choice did we have? It was a travesty.

The clock ticked as floodgates of self-reflection opened. What was I to do without the internet? Who was I? What was the meaning of my life? In an effort to explore these questions more fully, I lay down to take a nap.

But restlessness would not let me escape so easily. Unable to sleep, I went downstairs. That's when it happened, a glorious noise: the tell-tale chime that signified one of my friends had played their turn in Words With Friends. I ran to the cable box and saw two more lights had come back on. Internet and cable restored! Hallelujah! I was saved!

For now at least, the abyss can wait.