I decided last week I was going to take the weekend off for Mother’s Day. I was not going to worry about writing, just going to enjoy the weekend. That was all well and good until Friday morning. I was in the shower, getting ready for work, and I started thinking (always a dangerous prospect with me) and I began composing in my head. And I remember thinking it was a really good idea for a writing topic. It then segued into two topics that were somewhat related, with the closing of the first to be sort of an introduction for the second. So, I decided, right there in the shower, that instead of taking the weekend off, as I had planned, I would write both topics after I got home from work.
So far, so good, except that on Saturday afternoon, we were hosting a family party for Mother’s Day. Both sides of the family were coming to our house. By the time I got home from work, the remainder of Friday afternoon went to straightening up the house and doing what I could to get ready for Saturday. Still OK. Put the toddler down for a nap, and I was ready to write. I came in to my desk, sat down, and fired up my browser. My home page links to my Gmail, and I saw that I had several new messages. I went to Gmail, and found a couple of other online things I needed to take care of before I could write. Still OK. Should only take a few minutes. Half-way through my short list of tasks, I started having trouble. I called to my husband (who was at his own workstation, doing HIS thing) and asked him if he had done something to our WiFi that would interfere with my ability to access the internet. It was about then that we realized that we had no outside phone, either (no internet, no internet phone). Grabbed my cell phone and called our ISP. We were part of a “known outage” that should be resolved in an hour or two. Still OK. I started going through my coupons, making my shopping list for the store. By the time I got done food shopping, everything would be resolved and I could sit down and write.
The toddler woke from his nap and we headed out to the store. When we finished our shopping, I called my husband to have the older boys ready to come out and unload the car. He answered our house phone. Great! The outage had been resolved and I would hop on the web and write to my heart’s content as soon as the groceries were put away. Still OK. My topics were still floating around in my brain. Maybe not as fully formed as they were in the shower that morning, but enough that I was going to have no trouble reconstructing them. By the time I got home (five minutes later), our internet was out again. I put the groceries away, fixed dinner, and fed the heathens. Finished up the last of the dishes, got everything squared away for Saturday. Still no internet. On the phone again with the ISP.
This time I was not as nice as I had been. I told “Cedric” (like that’s his real name) that we had been told six hours prior that we were part of a “known outage” and that the problem was supposed to be resolved five hours ago, but we still didn’t have internet. “Cedric” said that the outage was resolved and we needed to reset our modem. Done, but still no internet. “Cedric” offered to have someone come out on Saturday. I told him that was fine, as long as they could come and go before noon, as we were having our party at 1:00. “Cedric” told me he could do this, but he had to have a phone number for the tech to call before his arrival. I assured him someone would be home, although I would be at work. I told “Cedric” the only phone number for the people who would be home on Saturday is our home phone, which wasn’t working BECAUSE WE HAD NO INTERNET. The service tech could call my cell phone, but I would not answer because I would be at work. “Cedric” said if the tech called and didn’t get an answer, he would assume that no one is home and would cancel the service call. Clearly, we were not getting anywhere. My husband told me to hang up, and I told “Cedric” I would have to call him back. The toddler and I went in and started getting ready for bed. Still OK. I had been reminding myself of my wonderful topics and I would be fully ready to get up in the morning and, at the very least, jot down some notes before I go to work. I set my alarm for extra early, so that I had time to write.
Saturday morning and my alarm clock is going crazy. I hit the snooze and went back to sleep. Crazy buzzing again. Time to haul my butt out of bed. Jumped in the shower, reviewed what I was going to write about. Got all ready for work, and, surprise, surprise, NO INTERNET. Sigh. Still OK. I made a couple of notes on some scratch paper in the kitchen, and headed to work. Once there, my boss and I had a short conversation about me leaving early to go home and get ready for the party. That should be fine, she said, and that was the plan right up until the part where we did 1/3 of our expected business for a “normal” Saturday in an hour. So much for leaving early. I finally got home and set to the food preparations for lunch. Everyone came, we ate too much, and then sat around and visited. Still OK. I figured I could write once everyone left.
The party was over, everything was cleaned up and I was too tired to think. I sat down and watched some TV and veg for bit. When I finally was ready to sit down to write, I began looking for the paper with my notes on it. Still OK. As long as I could find the paper, I would be able to write about whatever it was I had been thinking about in the shower on Friday morning . . . . except that I couldn’t find the paper. I searched through all the piles on my desk. No notes. I kept looking, all the while racking my brains trying to figure out what it was that I had thought of in the shower. I finally concluded that the scratch paper must have found its way into the garbage in the last-minute clean up for the party. The most I was able to resurrect was the closing line of the first topic – the one that is the introduction to the second topic. At this point, I will still be able to write the second one, but somehow, I feel that it will be diminished because of the missing lead in. I had it at one point, but now it’s gone. I am losing it. Check that. I have lost it. And I will probably never get it back.