Internet Addict definition:
Someone who is constantly on the internet on one or more of the following websites.
If you’re doing nothing, you’re on one of these websites.
Mister Grumpy has long held the belief that I am addicted to the internet and regular followers will remember some of the lengths I have gone to to get online, including the episode at the airport where I dropped a coin in his pocket so he’d make the sensors beep and I could smuggle my iPad through unbeknown to him.
This occasion, however, I was foiled big time. Mister Grumpy and I headed to our usual haunt in France for some much needed R&R. I made it quite clear that I was taking my iPad as I expected to be on television while I was away and had several articles going out to press. He agreed. I needed the iPad but I wasn’t to spend hours online. “Of course not, Dear,” I said, uploading a photo of a blue sky and checking to see what was going on on Facebook.
It was hot when we arrived. I mean the sort of heat that sends you racing inside to sit in front of an open freezer compartment of the fridge/freezer. As is always the case when it gets dreadfully hot in France, it was followed immediately by a storm … a storm like I have never experienced before. It was as if a tornado was ripping through the place. Within minutes the electricity went off and we were treated to spectacular red and white lightning displays and booming crashes of thunder exploding overhead while branches hurled themselves at the house.
Such was the magnitude of the event that the electricity in several regions went off and teams from EDF were sent scurrying around the region to help fix lines broken from fallen trees. Ours was out for three days. Three long days of no internet, television or charging phones. Mr Grumpy and I lazed about by day and ate by candlelight and played Spoof by night (I’ll explain about Spoof another day). I chewed my nails again, anxious to get back online. Mr Grumpy laughed loudly and said I was going though “cold turkey”. Day four, the power went on but alas no telephone lines. They were all down and so, there was still no internet.
“Can we go to McDonald’s?” I pleaded. “It’s only 57 kilometres away. I could check my email.”
“No. It’ll do you good to be offline. You’re addicted to it.”
“No, I’m not!” I yelled.
“Yes you are. Look at you. Your hands are shaking. You are definitely addicted. You need to have a break from all your social networking. Besides, they might not have internet either.”
The owner of the gite told us there would be no reconnection until the day we left. Mr Grumpy cheered and jeered at me. I didn’t mind. I read. I watched the cows chewing in the fields and went for walks by stunning gorges.
Then, the internet sprung to life. The owner came to give us the good news and Mister Grumpy hurried off immediately to see what the stock markets had done. As for me … I read and watched the chickens searching for insects. I had made it. I was no longer addicted to the internet.
Oh yes, I missed several of my articles that went live while I was away and I didn’t see myself on the game show but I can catch up on BBC iPlayer. I suppose I have to concede that I was addicted to the internet but I am cured now … well, almost!
To see me on Decimate click HERE (it won’t work if you live in the US. I’ll try and upload to YouTube for you.)
And finally, to read my article about Iceland and see what Mr Grumpy had to say abou the trip, click HERE