Exit from limbo, stage left

I'm back, by golly, I'm back.

Having spent nigh on two weeks pondering life without a telephone line, and, by inference, an internet connection, I think I can state with a degree of authority that I'm highly reliant (dependant?) on the internet. Knowing myself as I do, this scarcely qualifies as a revelation. That I coped well enough without it, on the other hand, came as more of a surprise. I've been using the internet for over a third of my life now, certainly near all my adult existence, and using it as a source of reference and entertainment is entirely second nature to me. I turn to my laptop almost by instinct whenever I find myself with an inquiry on virtually any topic, and without an internet connection I found myself regarding it as little more than a dull grey slab (I can't help by wonder what people did with computers before the internet edged into public acceptance)

So what did these netless days bring me, that I didn't start climbing walls?

Time.

Time to rest. Time breathe. To think. Time to spend with myself without distraction (I'm extremely skilled at distracting myself, for which purpose the internet is a marvellous tool). Time to stop and smell the thistles (I realise roses are more traditional in such a role, but I pass I patch of thistles each morning on the way to work. They cast a rich and wonderful scent).

Of course, too much of any good thing will be wearing eventually, and I'm quite glad that my BT enforced exile from the internet is at an end. I initially considered writing something each day, to post en bulk when I finally got back online, but, truth be told, I welcomed the rest from blogging as much as the rest from the net. I shroud myself in routine too easily, as I've remarked before, and it's always good to escape once in a while, if only as proof you can.

Normally service, or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof, is hereby resumed. It's good to be back.