The internet was down for a little while this morning. This is a true(-ish) account of my struggle to retain my sanity.

 

Gregor Schuster, Getty Images

Hour 1: When I got to work, I grabbed my breakfast from the fridge, had a little water, then collapsed to the floor and wept in the fetal position after realizing that we were without internet. I’m not sure how long I was down there, but the drenched carpet suggested gallons of shed tears (among other things).   I managed to pull it together long enough to try jiggling this, restarting that, hitting the other thing – all to no avail. Avail? No. No! Lack of internet was making me more intelligent and thoughtful! I needed goats screaming like people IMMEDIATELY! I ran to the engineering room and starting unplugging and re-plugging everything with a cord. Lights flickered. Bells rang. Weird box looking things beeped their disapproval. I had no clue what I was doing and I left the room a mess of tangled wires and punched-in monitors.

Amy Eckert, Getty Images

There must be a few more drops of sweet, sweet internet I can squeeze out of these tubes!

Hour 2: I managed to log on to a neighboring business’ Wi-fi. I only had one bar, but I was finally back online. I was forced to prioritize. Facebook was first. 12 notifications, hm? Busy night. I watched the dancing cats in Jedi costumes video twice before I remembered that I was at work. After returning a few dozen messages and posting a wall of text about how busy I was, I tried to update our website’s home page but…I lost my bar. That little green sliver of hope gave out on me. I tried again and again to get it back, but I was cruelly taunted by a Microsoft error box informing me that no signals were in range. My stomach bottomed out and I was filled with a great emptiness. I felt like a stone cast into the sea, sinking further and further into the deep, dark places of the world. I was utterly alone. I was cut off from civilization. There was no hope.

Ray Kachatorian, Getty Images

Now I'll NEVER know if she accepted my e-vite!

Hour 3: I picked up a newspaper and tried to read it, but when I caught myself trying to click to enlarge images or highlight words to Google, I decided I had better go splash some cool water on my face. As I was headed to the restroom, I received a text. A friend wondered “wuts up”.  I began to relay what was up when it hit me: the internet had been with me all along! My phone! My glorious, beautiful Samsung Lifesaver! Oh, what joy! Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity! I fell to my knees right there in the hallway and swiped the surface of my faithful companion in search of the Mobile Data settings. My fingers danced through menu after menu until I was at last connected to the outside world! What should I do first? Check my corporate email for today’s agenda? Update our websites? Download vital audio files for our morning show crews? I could decide after Facebook. I had all the time in the world!

Tim Robberts, Getty Images

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings!

Hour 4: The battery died. At first I refused to believe it. The screen must have timed out. I must have accidently reset it. It must be some late April Fool’s Day prank.

It was dead.

Anthony Harvie, Getty Images

 Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.

I had no more tears to shed, so I made my way back to my desk and pulled my emergency stash of single-malt Scotch from the trick compartment in the second drawer on the right. I brought up Microsoft Word and began writing what I believed would be my final message to the world before throwing myself in front of the next passing train.

How ephemeral and frail, this cord that connects us to the world and its people. They say no man is an island, but today I am a fractured archipelago in a sea of  long lost hope whose name I can longer pronounce. Cold waves the color of heartbreak crash into my dusty shores as I try in vain to find warmth and comfort in the last light of a blurry red sun intent on setting. Oh, how I wish to sink beneath the waves and be away from that cruel calamity. Goodbye, friends – if friends we ever were.

I moved to hit the Print icon when there was a knock at the door. It was Big Q.

“Hey. Internet’s back up,” he said.

“Ah, okay. Cool,” I replied.

I made my way to Facebook to bask in the warm glow of 21st century human contact.

STUDIO BOX, Getty Images

Ugh...I don't care what your kids had for breakfast. Get a life.