These past two weeks have been a whirlwind. Then I was reeling from the fire downstairs and completely intimidated by the days to come. First I traveled to Nice for a scientific meeting, and then to Cairo to update collaborators on a new project. I had one day in Paris between to repack and leave again.
Not only is it always good to sleep in my own bed (even though it is still a little smoky – Febreeze is only so effective), but I have become completely spoiled by my wifi (pronounced here as ‘wee-fee’, much better in my opinion). I have constant internet access from anywhere in my house. Most often I combine the comforts of bed with the ease of wifi. Neither the hotel in Nice (less understandable), nor that in Cairo (more understandable) came internet equipped. No hardline. No wifi. Nothing.
This situation forced me to confront the obvious – I have an addiction. To the internet. I was severed, cold-turkey, from my obsession without foreknowledge, having assumed that at least Nice would be well-equipped. At the conference I did not have much time to think about it, but each night I missed being able to say goodnight to loved ones across oceans, catching up with my blog reading, or updating my own blog!
It was not all bad. I re-read Jane Eyre and loved it (again). I am now almost done with Oliver Twist (the English-language bookstore in Paris was having a sale on classics). I finished several handmade Christmas gifts and started others. Mostly I slept. Whenever I could. I did notice that without email to check and Facebook to update, I enjoyed just relaxing.
No matter, I have fallen off the wagon. I’m hooked up again. Connected to the interwebs and back in action. It was about time. I was definitely getting twitchy.