No Internet, No Happiness

I don't have space in my heart and mind for the kind of hate I feel for the people who lived upstairs. I hope they go on to be cut up by hobos, hit by buses, treated in dirty hospitals in third world countries, infected by AIDS and die alone. Or together. Maybe that's worse. Maybe they can play some more avant garde gong jams to soothe their journey to HELL. If I'd known these people would continue to annoy me even after they'd gone, I would have set them on fire when I had the chance. My internet probably still would have been disconnected by accident, but I would have done something helpful and proactive about it. Cussing out Time Warner's customer service representatives can only take you so far. Sometimes you need to immolate someone.

4 days without internet was HARSH. I mean, yeah, I was really productive. I read 3 books (300, 600, and 800 pages in length...for serious), did a lot of Latin, studied Greek, memorized a lot of German vocab. But what good is productivity if life isn't worth living?? And life without internet totally isn't worth living.

I didn't even mourn the useless, time-wasting stuff. No, I'm talking about serious things. Like emailing professors, reordering the Netflix queue (it's more serious than you think), ordering books to study for the MA exams, getting my bank balance, checking the weather! These are things you can ONLY do online. And man, the downloading. Only NOW can I begin the tedious process of catching up on my network tv viewing. I think I'm going to queue up the season finale of ANTM right NOW.