My cyberlife is in melt down. I have been sobbing in sheer frustration and utter despair for the last half hour; it's not a pretty sight. I even got on the phone to my husband and caught him still on the train, where of course he could not talk to me, as I ranted about the unfairness of it all.
It has been a bad eight weeks, a cyberlifetime, if you get what I mean. Unable to comunicate across the ether, a hostage to my ISP. The sheer frustration.
I begin to look with more than envy at those with uber fast broadband. And I realise how incredibly precious it has been for me; what a life line it is and how when it goes awry, how utterly vulnerable I am in my splendid isolation in Suffolk.
For without it I cannot work. It's that simple.
No reliable internet and I cannot work, there is no income for me.
Maybe my husband does earn enough for both but that is not the point. Without internet I have NO choice.
It was brought home to me very forcibly when we got back from a weekend in Serbia (it was for a family christening) and I read that the publisher of my magazine was restructuring and getting rid of a lot of print versions as these are seen as passe and frankly don't generate enough profit. It looks like my job is on the line but there again withtout the internet my job was already on the line.
And as for blogging, something I love, well that's on the line too.
I feel like I am stranded on an island and I am watching the ship sail away....