It’s 3:04pm, Tuesday September 28, 2010. I don’t know about the time zone differences, but that’s definitely well before this was posted. The reason? Our internet is broken.

I don’t think that ‘broken’ is the most eloquent or technically correct way of referring to a lack of internet, but I like it that way – so with the powers of awesome (dubiously) bestowed upon me, I hereby appoint it to the lofty position of appropriate term. That was a long sentence.

It’s in times like these that we realise how addicted we actually are. Look at this! A mere ten minutes without my beloved internet, and here I am, an incoherent, clearly distraught, mess. Or at least, that’s my excuse for the utter fail of this blog. Or rather, bunch of text sitting in Microsoft Word, just clinging to the dream that one day soon, it might be promoted to the glory of being an actual blog, posted on the internet for all (or rather, a small bunch of you) to read.

So, back to the internet problem. Which is undoubtedly boring to you, but right now is one of the most significant things that have happened today. Which demonstrates how uneventfully boring my day has turned out thus far. My problems began this morning, when I turned on our modem, and noted the absence of one of the usually dependably flickering lights.

Unconcerned, I reset the connection, and waited a bit. It was when, for the second time, the mighty Google failed to load, that I began to fear that something might be very wrong. Knowing that my two brothers had been the last two people to touch the modem, I called them in for questioning. Our conversation went like this:

“Did the internet work when you were looking up Lego on eBay?”

“Yes.”

“Did you touch the modem?”

“No.”

“Then what did you do? The internet doesn’t just break in the space of ten minutes.”

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!”

“Just show me what you did when you turned off the computer”

*Brother dissolves into tears and runs off, slamming doors, and sobbing “IT WASN’T MY FAULT.”*

In my defence, I did try to cheer him up. But I took the hint of “GOOOOOOOOOOOO AWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!” and left promptly before any more damage to my person could be sustained.

The lack of internet was a mystery. But the yummy aromas drifting from the lunch table summoned me elsewhere, so I decided to apply the mantra of the procrastinator to the problem and “deal with it later.” Although, my “deal with it later” was more of a “hope it fixes itself later or I’m screwed.”

Fortunately for me, lunch was awesome. And yes, I do apply the word awesome to food. Unfortunately for me, the internet problem hadn’t resolved itself after lunch. The moral of this story, kids, is that procrastination – and all the mantras that come with it – are not to be trusted.

This was it. I was past hoping. I decided to do the unthinkable – consult my technologically challenged mother.

“Mummyyyyyyyy! The-internet-isn’t-working! I’m gonna die! Wah!” I cried.

Okay, so I didn’t say it like that. I mustered all of my dubious fourteen-year-old maturity (although the anguish was still as strong inside me), and said:

“Mum… the internet still isn’t working… Can we call the techie guy who lives across the road?”

“He’s away for the rest of the holidays.” WHAT?! NOOOOOOOOO!

“Mum… can we call our Internet Provider?”

She picks up the phone. I watch in trepidation as she searches the phonebook for the number. Then she stops. The phone is not working. There is no dial tone. We are doomed. DOOMED! Then comes the silver lining: the phone plan is managed by the same company as the internet! Ergo, it must be their problem, not ours. I could have danced in joy.

After calling the Internet Provider, we discovered that a fibre or cable or something had been cut in our area. As a ‘High Priority’ case, affecting many people’s phones and internet, we were told it would be fixed as soon as possible.

Soon after, we espied an Internet Provider van at the top of our street, fiddling with a cable. I have no idea if they were fixing the internet or not, but I hope they were. I was going to walk up the street and demand they tell me when I would have my beloved Internet back, but upon realising that the guy from the van was several metres up in the air on a ladder, I decided against it due to the potential for awkward/fail. I envisaged our possible conversation as having gone like this:

Me: Hi! So… whatcha doing?

Internet guy: *something that isn’t fixing the internet*

Me: Oh… err… cool! Well, bye then! *departs quickly*

*internet guy gives me the awkward stare as I walk down the street barefoot.*

So… now it’s 3:31pm, and I’ve successfully killed some internet-less time blogging. But the internet is still broken, and I’ve already destroyed a fountain pen today doodling. I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS ANY MORE!

In other news, I’m on break from school, and have designed part of the new layout. It’s nothing special, but it’s a change, which is what I need.

Now, if only the internet would work!

Note: The internet started working again a few hours later.  I eventually mustered the courage to ask the guys down the road.