Yesterday, our internet at home decided it did not want to play. So, I engaged in that time-honored ritual — I unplugged all the wires, counted to twenty, plugged in all the wires.
And still no internet.
Then after dinner, I had Younger pull all the wires. And we lived without internet for an hour or so.
Not really. We are no longer capable of living without internet. We actually drained the data on our phones.
But when we reattached all the wires to the modem, we still could not access the home internet. So, frustrated, I called the phone company.
After ten minutes of trying to answer the mechanical man who assured me I could speak to him in full sentences but kept asking me the same questions, I finally voiced, “Can you connect me to a real person?”
Then he put me on hold for eight minutes. Where another mechanical voice would randomly thank me for my patience. As if that would make me have some.
The same voice would randomly tell me if I could access the internet on my phone or tablet, I could use the app to have my conversation with a service tech. After the fifth recitation of that bit of advice, I yelled at my phone that if I had the internet, I wouldn’t be calling them. But, of course, the only response was the mechanical voice once again thanking me for my patience.
I still didn’t really have any. I may have had less than what I began with.
Yeah, actually, I did have less.
When I finally got through to a real person, she asked me what state I was from and gave me the “correct” number to call. So, I politely thanked her and ended the connection. Only to discover that was the number I had called twenty minutes earlier.
And my patience was officially fried to a crumbly crisp.
So, I fired up my hotspot and logged into our account on the website and started a live chat with a nice lady who told me to “take all my time” as I kept sending Younger upstairs to search the modem for whatever number she was asking for at the time.
Eventually, Younger showed up at the bottom of the stairs, a bit sheepish. “Uhhhhhmmm, Mom? I think maybe the modem didn’t get plugged back into the outlet a while ago. I think the internet is working now.”
Apparently, maybe, we aren’t sure exactly, but I might have unplugged the modem from the outlet then forgot I had done so. Then I might have sent Younger upstairs to pull all the wires and he might have unplugged the wires from the back of the modem, not realizing I had done my damage first.
And, when he put all the wires back into the appropriate places, he was still unaware the modem was actually unplugged from the outlet.
Which is probably a rather important component of a working modem.
So, yeah, I guess I’ll work on my patience.
And, I suppose, my memory, too.