Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

day three of no internet

I'm camped out at a bookstore in my PJs and slippers drinking Diet Coke and eating rice crispy treats. God help me.

The worse part of that sentence?  The Diet Coke.  I can give up rice crispy treats mid-bite if I have to with no regrets, but give me a sip of Diet Coke and even while I’m thinking I don’t really like the taste that much, I can’t stop myself from drinking the whole thing. 

I had been on the wagon for over a week until my internet went down—reason number one hundred eighty-four to be mad at Comcast cable.  I have no idea why, but diet drinks make my breasts tingle, and not in the nicey way.  More in the, “that can’t be good” sort of way.  I’ve tested it.  No diet drinks…no bad tingles.  Diet drinks…lots and lots of weird.

Maybe my strange mood has been influenced by a worse than normal lack of sleep. 

I woke up early this morning, waiting for the promised call back by the cable company, (after only four point seven five hours of sleep) a call that never came.  At quarter til one this afternoon, I dialed the number I have unfortunately memorized and clicked through the automated prompts without waiting for instructions.  I do not think this is a skill I want to showcase, but I was sadly proud of myself for remembering the path as if I had just navigated the Halloween corn maze successfully (something I have never actually done, by the way.)

I would have continued to rough it at home with my semi-connection to the “borrowed” wireless signal, but now, not only do I have no internet at home, the neighbors seem to have noticed a slower connection and turned off their prehistoric router so I’m being forced to camp out at Books-A-Million.  I even bought the membership card so I could get free Wi-Fi (which isn’t really free if you have to buy the membership…just saying.)

I had to switch bookstore chains today after the people at Barnes and Noble started calling me by name and asking me about my dog. 

This is not the sort of fame I’m looking for. 

But sadly, fame of any kind will have to wait.  I have an appointment with the cable guy in the morning.  They gave me a window of eight a.m. and the apocalypse, so we’ll see.

Until the next time…I will be expecting a man in a red suit with horns and a pitchfork at my door bright and early!

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