In my previous household it was not uncommon to email or electronically message others in the home to ask if they wanted a cup of tea. We sat side by side on the lounge, tapping away on our computers, and only spoke to each other when we wanted to share a funny video or crazy conspiracy theory we had stumbled across. That was back in the time of wireless internet.
Now, not only am I limited to cable-delivered internet, but the only computer it is hooked into is a geriatric machine that lives out in the family room –which also contains the TV. Had I wanted to get online for most of the previous week I would have had to share my time with the Australian cricket team (and all my father’s passionate suggestions about how they could improve their game).
Like many of those with a technology diet imposed upon them, I was surprised by how improved my day was by the lack of internet. Don’t get me wrong, my social life has suffered, and I got so sick of FreeCell that I don’t think I will be able to play again for a while, but my writing has been the real winner. I’ve edited nearly 23,000 words of my novel since this time last week! That would have to be a record for me.
Perhaps now I should admit that I have insisted on an upgrade. So the wireless modem will arrive soon and I’ll be back to tweeting, blog reading, emailing and all the other things that take precious moments each day. But maybe the real lesson I need to take from this is to force a few internet free days upon myself. I owe it to my writing to do it; my time off work is too quickly drawing to a close and I still have so much to do.
Anyway, I’ve got to go, you don’t want to know what Mum and Dad are watching on TV now…