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Some of you may have asked yourselves, what would life be like without Objectivist Living, or indeed the internet itself? But I bet you have not asked yourselves what it would be like without the internet OR the telephone OR the TV except for Fashion Television and OUT TV and some other free channel too awful even to remember the name of.

You need not ask yourselves, I have been there and I know the answer, it is no fun.

If I had any sense, this would be the start of an op-ed about unplugging voluntarily for a couple of weeks, reconnecting with family, enjoying nature, reading books and getting back in touch with oneself. But if I had any sense I would have realized that paying the minimal amounts on three bills that I used to pay on one bill, would not keep three services running (I had a hazy idea that the internet was free, anyway).

The heartless monopolists of Bell have shown me the consequences of my fecklessness, with the kicker that after they briefly restored my satellite and internet, it killed my telephone. A technician arrived to fix the phone, which he did, upon which the internet died again, never to rise again until today. I will not dwell upon my travails in this interim. There are more wires in this apartment than in the average human brain and something has been done to every one of them.

At the lowest points, like when I was missing the hockey game and could not go out to watch it because I was waiting for the technician again, I admit I writhed against my slavery to technology, and even cast dark bitter thoughts towards the innocent city of Brantford. Indeed I enjoyed nature, read books and connected with family (by payphone), but I do those things anyway, and the unfailing love and support I always get from my dear sons usually included commiseration sessions about the way we always all seem to be broke at the same times, and ungentle hints that I need to improve my organizational skills.

I made many, many new friends in Manila, Delhi, Thunder Bay and Miramichi, my call centre experience being a great help in getting them to tell me what was actually going on, and I have vowed to answer the phone more often, now that it is working again.

It's funny but I feel exhausted as if I had had to rebuild the whole computer myself, and my arms and everything else are tired-- and strangely I feel shy, now there's weird for you. In two weeks much gets said and I don't know what yet--it's like being the new poster again, six months on.

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  • 6 months later...

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