Disconnected

The chronicling of the world in the wake of everything going 404 Not Found.

Day One:

 

F**k!

 

Day Two:

 

The world ended yesterday.

 

Day Three:

 

Okay, so maybe the world didn’t end, but it might as well have.  We lost the Internet, you see.  It’s gone, finished, kaput.  Whoever said you don’t truly appreciate something until it’s gone damn well knew what they were talking about.  I can’t remember who said it.  I’d Google that s**t, but, you know.

 

Day Seven:

 

Right, if I’m going to get into the swing of writing stuff down I need to be more disciplined.  I used to be a blogger, for Christ’s sake!  Why is it so much harder to remember to write things down by hand than it ever was to post it online?  I know I could still type it on my laptop, but without the Internet what’s the point?  Computers were our doorway to the Internet, so without being able to go online, what are they?  Expensive bloody typewriters, that’s what!

 

Day Eight:

 

I completely forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I?  My name’s Christine, but most people call me Chrissie.  I don’t really know why I’m doing this, but the 21^st Century world losing its access to the Information Superhighway (heh, remember when they used to call it that?) feels like a pretty big deal, and I reckon people should be writing about it.  I’m sure others are writing things down, like I am.  God, I hope they are.  No one asked me to start this…journal?  Diary?  Whatever.  I was just so dumbstruck at not being able to get online that I had to do something to stop from going crazy.  Words have always helped, so here’s hoping they help in this instance.

 

Fingers crossed, eh?

 

Day Nine:

 

Jesus, I miss Facebook!

 

Day Ten:

 

Someone once told me this about writing: write every word as if someone else is going to read it.  Sounds kind of pretentious, doesn’t it?  But who else am I talking to besides myself?  I have to assume that at least one other person is going to read these words.  I have no grand illusions of these pages becoming some inspirational tome that people will draw strength and energy from; I’m just a girl trying to cope with being booted out of the Twitterverse.  I mean, isn’t that what social media is �" pardon me, was �" all about: putting words out there in the hope that others would read them?  I know, I know, it’s a vain pursuit of gratification and acceptance, so sue me!

 

Yeah, sue me.  But you’ll have to send that s**t by snail mail.  Ain’t no e-mail anymore, baby.

 

Day Fifteen:

 

Been a few days, huh?  I’ve been trying to get out and about to take my mind off things.  It’s crazy; everything in the world is exactly the same as it was before.  The only difference is that there’s no Internet.  We still have electricity, people are still going to work �" well, some of them are �" and we’re still managing to feed and clothe ourselves.  It’s weird how things are so similar and yet so different.  I guess this is what life was like before the Internet came along.  I’d ask how people managed but of course they weren’t managing, were they?  They lived in a world before the Internet.  We’re now in one without it.

 

Big difference.

Day Sixteen:

 

I’d put this all into some kind of context for whomever may be reading this, whenever they may be reading it, but I can’t.  I simply can’t.  There was no event to speak of.  No cataclysm that brought the Internet to its knees.  One day it was there, the next it wasn’t.  Everything was tried, it seems.  Everything.  Stuff was turned off and on again (hello, IT?), routers were checked, servers were overhauled, the works.  Nothing did the trick.  It was like God, assuming the existence of an all-knowing deity with one seriously fucked up sense of humour, just clicked their fingers one day and said:

 

And Lo, There Shalt Be No Internet.

 

Thanks a lot, God.  I’m missing my Netflix shows because of you.

 

Maybe.

 

Day Twenty:

 

S**t just got real.

 

Some guy was beaten to death not half a mile from here for claiming to have Internet access when he didn’t.  Poor sap.  He probably thought it would make a pretty funny hoax.  The mob that descended on him didn’t think it funny when no connectivity was produced.  It’s scary.  We’re supposed to be people, not animals.  What’s the difference, though, right?  I remember reading somewhere �" once again, can’t Google it �" that if you deprive a culture of food and/or water for three days you’ll have anarchy.  I guess it takes just under three weeks for a culture to go insane off the back of no Internet.

 

Like I said, scary.  I think I’ll nip into the loft at some point today and get my brother Shaun’s old cricket bat out.  Can’t be too careful.

 

Day Twenty-Five:

 

I felt safe enough to venture out of the house today, although I did take Shaun’s bat with me.  I thought I’d get some funny looks, but instead I saw people with golf clubs, baseball bats, and one guy with a sword.  Winter is coming, eh?  God, that would have made a cracking meme.  I guess that’s a word that will slip into obscurity: meme.  Assuming we never get the Internet back.  What a frightening thought.  Also, the fact that it’s such a frightening thought is frightening in of itself.

 

I need a coffee.  I hope the folks at Costa don’t think I’m going to try and rob them just because I’m carrying a cricket bat.  Worse, I hope no one asks me to play cricket with them.  I’m rubbish at that game.

 

Day Twenty-Six:

 

A thought occurred me to while I was out yesterday.  I’ve never seen the high street so busy!  Well, maybe at Christmas, but this was a Wednesday afternoon when it’s normally dead.  Looks like the Internet being gone could be what saves the Great British High Street.  I’m sure some would call that a silver lining.  People seem to browse less than they used to, though.  I guess Internet shopping spoiled them, but when I was out people were in and out, in and out.  Gone was the idling at shop windows.  The digital age seems to have sped life up to a right old pace.  I think I finally get what my Granny �" rest her soul �" used to say about the world getting faster and her not being able to keep up.

 

Wish you were here, Gran.  This would be giving you a chuckle, for sure.

 

Day Thirty:

 

OMG!!!  You’ll never guess what just happened!  Some randomer knocked on my door asking if he could see my b***s!  Can you believe it?  I mean, I know the Internet’s gone and all and that means so has all the online porn, but seriously?  Who does that?  Who goes up to stranger’s houses asking to see a flash of tit?  Well, this guy, clearly.  The level of dependency the Internet had us under is really starting to show.  I mean, it’s not as if the Internet was the only place a person could get their filthy mitts on some porn, for crying out loud!  Go down to your local newsagent and buy a Razzle, or take a trip to your friendly neighbourhood adult shop!  Don’t come knocking me up �" poor choice of words, I know �" wanting me to whip my top off.  Jog on, mate.

 

Day Thirty-One:

 

A whole month with no Internet.  It feels like the world is still reeling from it, and, honestly, I’m still not quite sure how to feel about it.  I was shocked at first, sure.  Then I was angry and frustrated.  Then I got a little embarrassed about how much of my life I actually lived online.  I stayed in touch with friends via e-mail and Facebook, most of my entertainment was streamed or bought online, I banked online, I flirted online (hey, a girl’s gotta have some fun), I tweeted, I blogged.  I even vlogged once, and in a heartbeat it was gone.  There are those who are saying this is the end of mankind; others say it’s just the beginning.  I think I’m still a little on the fence.  I still miss it, most definitely, but I think I can see some of the benefits to us not being so glued to our computers and devices.  I don’t know, maybe this is what they mean by swings and roundabouts.  Odd phrase that.  I wonder what its original meaning was…?

 

Day Thirty-Two:

 

Having that guy ask to see my b***s the other day got me thinking about relationships.  Funny how the mind works, isn’t it?  Basically, we’re going to have to, as a culture, retrain ourselves to socialise, aren’t we?  Think about it, today you can meet people online so easily through social media, or you could.  You could get all of the awkwardness out of the way screen-to-screen before you ever plucked up the courage to meet face-to-face.  I know that newspapers still have classified pages �" I just know, okay, I’m in no way admitting to using them �" but for all those people out there who got themselves hooked on Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp, SnapChat, Tinder, and on and on, what are they going to do?  I have this funny image of people meeting in bars and cafes, only able to speak to one another by writing on Post-It Notes and leaving them for others to find.  It’s sweet, but kind of sad, really.  I don’t know, maybe the Internet leaving us will force people to brush up on their basic social skills, which, judging by Boobie Boy the other day, wouldn’t be a bad thing.

 

Note to self: buy Post-Its :p

 

Day Thirty-Six:

 

Ugh!  No matter what happens, parking at the local supermarket is always going to be a nightmare.  I miss online shopping, damn it!

 

Day Thirty-Nine:

 

Headline of the day: Local Teen Admitted to Hospital for Withdrawal Symptoms for Online Gaming.  Come on, really?  I mean, I tried World of Warcraft once and couldn’t get my head around it.  And the language?  Oh my God!  I’m a pretty liberal woman, but some of the things people used to say to each other over the Internet was just plain vile!  So, maybe chalk up another positive point for the Internet being gone: people have less opportunity to be s****y to one another.  Don’t get me wrong, people will always be s****y to others; sadly it’s in our nature, but now we’ve been robbed of the anonymity that the Internet provided it seems people are less inclined to spew so much bile into the world.

 

Suck on that, trolls!

Day Forty:

 

Today I did something that I’ve not done for a long time.  I went to the library.  I know, I sound like Hermione Granger, don’t I?  But seriously, it was so weird being surrounded by books again.  I honestly think the last time I was in a library was when I was at university, and even then I mainly went in there to use the computers.  I felt a little ashamed when I left, actually, because my local library is within easy walking distance of my house and this is the first time I’ve ever gone in there.  I’m not making excuses; I just never needed to go in before, not with the Internet at my fingertips.  Anything I wanted to know was a Google search away, and, on those rare occasions when Google didn’t come up trumps, all I had to do was post a question on Twitter or Facebook and I’d have scores of answers within minutes.

 

But you should have seen the look on the librarian’s face!  Happy as a pig in a certain substance.  Granted, it took quite a while to check the book out that I wanted, as their systems were all online until very recently, but the lady behind the desk �" who was so lovely �" said that she couldn’t remember the library ever being so full.  She regaled me with tales of woe about library closures up and down the country and how the Internet going down was a blessing in disguise for the forlorn local library.  She said that she hoped the Internet never came back.

 

I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone mean something so much as she did then.

 

Day Fifty:

 

Bollocks!  My library book is overdue!

 

Day Fifty-One:

 

While I’m touching upon things that haven’t happened to me in a while, I got a letter the other day.  A real, honest-to-God, handwritten letter.  It was from my Mum and it was so sweet I found myself welling up as I read it.  Not because of what she said but because of what it was.  This was a tangible piece of communication that someone had taken time and effort over.  My Mum had personally sat down to write to me �" using the good notepaper, I noticed �" and taken the trouble to take that letter to the post box at the end of her road and drop it through the slot.  It’s such a simple thing, but I’m so touched.  I never got that feeling from an e-mail, not really.  Yes, I’ve received some touching, moving, and even heart-rending e-mails in my time, but a letter has more…weight.  It’s a physical object, and that seems to make it mean something greater.  Blimey, I really am starting to sound pretentious.  I’d better hold my breath if I’m going to disappear this far up my own arse!

 

But before that happens, I’m going down the Post Office to buy some stamps so that I can write back to my Mum.

 

Day Fifty-Two:

 

Sent a reply letter off to my Mum today.  My hand has finally gotten used to me writing all the time and stopped hurting.

 

But bloody hell!  How expensive are stamps these days?

 

Highway robbery, I tell you!

 

Day Fifty-Five:

 

I saw on the news today that Google and Yahoo! are making scores of people redundant.  Stands to reason, I suppose.  What’s going to keep the lights on in an Internet business when there is no Internet?  I also heard that things aren’t going too well in the Apple camp, either, but that they’re trying desperately to diversify.  Someone in town said that Apple were going to try and move into farming and agriculture.  Interesting.  I wonder if they’ll grow…apples.  I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist!  Low-hanging fruit, and all that!

 

I should have been a comedienne.

 

Day Fifty-Seven:

 

I remembered today that I had some money in my PayPal account.  Now how the hell am I going to get that back?

 

Time to make a phone call, me thinks.

 

Day Fifty-Seven (continued):

 

Still on hold with PayPal…

 

Day Fifty-Eight:

 

Turns out I wasn’t the only person who remembered about their PayPal accounts.  Consequently, they’ve been inundated with calls and letters asking for funds to be sent back to people.  I’m glad I’m getting my money back, but I do feel sorry for the poor folks at PayPal.  It’s not their fault.  People can get very funny about their money, though.  Maybe PayPal’s next in the firing line for huge job losses.  Not a pretty thought, but it seems to be the way the wind is blowing with these cyber-businesses.  It’s interesting, though: companies that built themselves up through the Internet don’t seem to have had much in the way of contingency plans for if something like this ever happened.  That’s just it, though, isn’t it?  Did any of us really think that something like this would happen?  Had we grown so dependent on the Internet that the very idea of it no longer being there was impossible for us to comprehend?

 

Well, the joke’s sure on us, isn’t it?

 

Day Sixty:

 

Well, if two months without the Internet has proven one thing it’s that we certainly don’t need the World Wide Web to encourage the nut-balls to come gibbering out of the woodwork.  I’ve probably mentioned before in this series of jumbled ramblings that there are definitely those who seem pleased with the disappearance of the Internet, but if you were to ask a member of the Olde Worlde League (OWL for short, I’m told) �" and I wish you good luck if you do �" then what you’d get is an earful of spittle and zealous fire about how the Internet being gone is a blessing unto all, yadda yadda yadda.  Don’t get me wrong, things like getting that letter from my Mum and seeing all those kids reading books �" actual books �" at the local library the other day makes me see that losing the Internet isn’t all bad, but these whack-jobs are taking things to immensely stupid proportions, as some always will, right?  Now, I said before that the only thing that’s changed is that we have no Internet.  We’re still living in the 21^st Century with computers, telephones, and all that jazz, but the OWLs seem to have taken this as a sign that we should shed all modern trappings and live like it’s the sodding Dark Ages!  I saw a bunch of them in town yesterday, all dressed up like they were on their way to a Medieval Fayre or something.  I mean, I’m all for Fair Trade and organic produce and all that, but not if I have to grow and harvest it my bloody self!  This may sound very First World �" and I don’t really care if it does �" but in my opinion, Western culture has not progressed as far as it has for me to have to milk a bloody cow if I want my Frosties of a morning!

 

Truly, the Internet didn’t create crazy people; it just gave them more of a voice.  Now that it’s gone, it looks as if they’re going to start shouting louder.

 

So help us!

 

Day Sixty-Four:

 

How did we ever manage without on-demand TV???  Now I have to wait for my shows to be on to watch them?  I know this makes me sound like a petulant spoiled brat but I miss binge-watching an entire season of The Walking Dead over a weekend.  Now, those pesky cliff-hangers have me waiting a week to find out what (stuff and things) happens.

 

God knows how I’m going to cope with the mid-season break!  Three months with no Daryl?  A girl could go crazy!

Day Sixty-Six:

 

Today I unplugged my router and put it away in the living room cupboard.  It felt kind of symbolic, you know?  Like I was saying a definite goodbye to the Internet.  I think I’m starting to get used to not having it around, although I don’t know if I’ll ever fully get used to it.  Who knows, though?  Maybe someday down the line, if the Internet never comes back on, I’ll look back on this time in my life and wonder how I ever became so dependent on something so fleeting.

 

Weird thought.  I think I need a drink.

 

Day Sixty-Seven:

 

One drink turned into too many.  I’m going back to bed.

 

Day Sixty-Eight:

 

Here’s a bitter pill to swallow.  Not long before the Internet went down I used a tasty little tax rebate to part fund the purchase of a new iPhone.  A new model had come out a few months before and I fancied treating myself.  Now, sitting here, staring at my very expensive new smart phone I have to resign myself to the fact that it is no longer smart and is just a phone.  I can still make and receive calls and texts, which is all fine and good, but I sunk a lot of money into this thing because of all of the web-based things that it could do.  Not anymore, though, eh?  All over the world, and I’m assuming this Internet breakdown is worldwide, otherwise we’d have heard about it on the news, people are having to look at their phones as just phones again.  I remember when you’d get on a train or bus, or go to a bar or restaurant, and people everywhere would be checking their phones for any number of reasons.  Now, all you can check your phones for is the time, whether someone has called, or whether someone has sent you a text message.

 

And again I’m faced with a slight dilemma of how to feel about this.  Yes, I’m bloody pissed off that I spent so much money on a phone that can now only do a tiny fraction of what I bought it for, but at the same time I can see the benefits of people not being glued to their phones like they used to be.  Let me ask you something, oh assumed reader, how many times in your life have you been having a conversation with someone and had them stop talking to you because their phone went off?  Surely a face to face interaction should take precedence over one that happens via a telephone, right?  Apparently not.  I’ve even done it myself, I’m sure I have.  There I was, happily chatting away with someone when beep beep beep, and off I’d go, putting my real life conversation on hold to check what my phone demanded of me.  I feel ashamed to think of how many times I probably did that in my life.

 

So again, ticked that my comfortable First World existence has been made that little less cushy (God, I sound like such a b***h, don’t I?), but at the same time cautiously optimistic that the next time I feel like I’m having a meaningful conversation with someone I won’t be interrupted by the siren song of the mobile phone.

 

Right little fence-sitter, aren’t I?

 

Day Sixty-Nine:

 

I don’t really have anything to say today, but my lewd sense of humour won’t let me pass day 69 without a childish snicker.

 

Heh.

 

Day Seventy:

 

It’s late, and I’ve had a few to drink, but I wanted to get this down…

 

I went to a party tonight; a friend’s birthday.  It was nice to reconnect with people.  It would have been a hell of a lot nicer, however, if people could have talked about something else besides the damn Internet being gone.  All night.  Literally all night, that’s all anyone wanted to talk about.  How’s it affecting you?  What do you miss most about it?  On and on!  I know, I know.  I’m being a major hypocrite right now; writing in a journal about the loss of the Internet complaining about people talking about the loss of the Internet.  But seriously, is that all people talk about these days?  I mean, TV still works; why aren’t people gasbagging about the soaps or the football?  Not that I want them to do that either �" can’t stand either �" but at least it would have been some variety.

 

Ugh!  Like I said, had a few to drink.  I’m going to bed.

 

Day Seventy-Five:

 

I’ve been away for a few days, in the country, you know?  It’s funny, but where I live you can be pretty much in the countryside if you drive ten minutes in practically any direction, but this could well have been the first time I’ve deliberately “gone country” since I was a kid.  I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record here, but without the Internet to distract me with blogging, chatting, surfing, etc. I found myself at a complete and total loose end.  Then it hit me: why not go out?  Venture forth, that kind of thing.  So I did.  I didn’t even call up any friends and make a road trip out of it.  I just went.  On my own.  And you know what?  I really enjoyed myself.  Don’t worry, I’m not about to go all communing-with-nature, but being out there was just so…peaceful.  I don’t live in a big city, but even a medium sized town can comfortably squeeze into the rat race, and it felt good to step off the track for a while.

 

Heh, knowing me, had the Internet still been with us, I’d have blogged about being in the countryside with nothing more than my childhood memories to back me up.  What a fraud!

 

Day Seventy-Six:

 

Mental note: next time you go romping through the sodding countryside, remember to slap on plenty of insect repellent.  Greedy little buggers!  I feel like I’ve been nibbled on by every gnat, midge, and such-and-such in England!

 

Day Seventy-Seven:

 

It rained today; nothing particularly special about that, right?  I mention it because this has to be one of the first times in my adult life when, to check the weather, I actually looked outside.  For so long I grew so used to simply checking the Weather App on my phone.  I don’t know.  It felt more real pulling the curtain aside and seeing actual rain hitting the window instead of computer generated rain falling behind the day’s weather readout.  I mean, of course it’s more real; it was just one of those moments where the realness of something hits home.  I’m not sure if I’m making myself clear, but I know what I mean.  And that’s all that matters, right?  Well, it’s supposed to.  I guess as I’m writing this with the obviously egotistical assumption that someone somewhere will read what I’ve written (surely all writers feel this way) I suppose I should hope that I’m at least making sense.

  

Day Eighty:

 

I took a walk in the park today, and you know what I saw?  A guy playing a song about the Internet, like it was a folk tale!  I mean, I know it’s been a while since it went down, but come on!  The way this guy was romanticising it you’d think the Internet was the stuff of legend.  We all remember what the Internet was like, but a folk song?  Already?  Isn’t there some kind of unspoken length of time that has to pass before you can write a folk song about something?  If there isn’t, there should be.

 

The most annoying thing, though, was that it was a catchy song.  And I don’t even like folk music.

 

Go figure.

 

Day Eighty-Two:

 

The other day, when I was in the loft looking for my brother’s cricket bat, I came across our old family albums.  Christ, I hadn’t looked through those in years!  I inherited them when my Granny passed away �" may she rest in peace �" and now I feel ashamed that they ended up forgotten in the loft for so long.  I’m sorry, Gran.

 

The rest of today has been spent down Memory Lane.  I curled up on the sofa with the dusty photo albums by my side, and I didn’t look up again until I’d looked through every single picture.  I felt I owed my Granny, and the rest of the family, that much at least.

 

I laughed.  I cried.  I promised myself I wouldn’t let it go this long again without a good reminisce.

 

I feel kind of sad now, so I’m going to bed.

 

Day Eighty-Three:

 

You know, going through my old family albums yesterday got me thinking.  What kind of visual evidence am I going to leave behind?  Like so many people, all of my photos were stored online, either on my Facebook, Instagram, or wherever else I decided to post them.  All digital, all online; now all gone.  So many memories.  So many fun times, and what do I have to show for them?  On my Facebook I had albums of birthday parties, trips abroad, weddings, you name it.  If the Internet never comes back those photos will be lost forever.

 

Bloody hell, that’s a depressing thought.

 

No, you know what?  I’m not going to let two entries end on sad notes.  Yes, it’s a shame that so much of what I captured of my life is now inaccessible, but what’s the sense in getting all maudlin over it?  The way I see it I can do one of two things: shed a tear into a glass of wine or two, or get busy working on some new memories.

 

Tomorrow I’m going out and buying a blank photo album.  The Internet may be gone, but I can still get my digital prints done at the local supermarket.

 

I love it when a plan comes together.

 

Day Eighty-Four:

 

Bugger!  I forgot to buy Pritt-Stik.  Back to town for me.

 

Day Eighty-Five:

 

I’ve been thinking.  If anyone is reading this then you’ll know that I used to make my living as a blogger.  I wasn’t world renowned or anything, but I did okay.  Now, however, with the loss of the Internet, not only have I had to find a new line of work (God bless recruitment agencies!), but I’ve also been given some pause for thought.  As a blogger, I was paid to put my opinion out there into the world for other people to engage with, challenge, disagree with, what have you.  But what’s the equivalent now?  I suppose it would be the same as what came before the Internet: public speaking.  If I wanted to try and continue life as a blogger post-Internet I’d basically have to get on my literal soapbox in the centre of town and start talking.  Can you imagine?  I always roll my eyes at those people who feel the need to disrupt others’ shopping, dining, etc. with their high-volume rhetoric, but was what I was doing any different?  True, I didn’t shout my blog from the rooftops, but I still put my opinion out there with the belief that it meant enough to be shared.  And look at me now!  I’m clearly so used to having my say that I’m now filling a notepad instead of a web page.

 

Like I said, pause for thought.

 

Day Ninety:

 

I can’t do it!  I’ve deliberately not written anything down for five days because I bummed myself out so much with my last entry, but I can’t stop!  I know it makes me sound like a massive egotist, but I genuinely get something from writing my thoughts down in this way, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get some puffed-up sense of pride at the idea that one day someone might be reading this to see what the average woman-in-street was doing when the Internet went down.

 

A blogger to the end, I suppose.  At least this little notepad stops me from stepping on to that soapbox.

 

I hope.

 

Day Ninety-Two:

 

On the news today, the PM declared that if the boffins and egg-heads can’t get the Internet restored within the next week then he’s pulling the plug on the whole project.  Apparently, the government set up a task force to figure out how to bring the Internet back, but with budget cuts and all that they were given a deadline of a hundred days to come up with some results.  Well, if their timeline is anything close to my writing, we’ve got about eight days left to see if they can pull off a miracle.

 

I’ll wait and see if I need to dust off my router before I get too excited.

 

Day Ninety-Three:

 

Well, as if the pressure wasn’t already on the Internet task force, someone has managed to leak the location of their base operations to the general populace; pretty impressive in a world with (currently) no Internet.  Then again, I suppose information leaks must have happened in the days before the Internet.  I guess, if the Internet never comes back, I’m going to have to stop thinking in this way, assuming that things that are possible online are automatically impossible off.  I mean, people got along fine for thousands of years without the Internet, but, as I’ve said before, they were living in a world before the Internet.  Time will tell how well, if at all, we can live on a permanent basis in a world without the Internet.  I think everyone, me included, has been assuming that this is just some sort of temporary glitch and of course the Internet is going to come back.  But with the deadline now set �" and I hear other countries are doing the same �" the reality of a life without the Internet is becoming very much of a reality.

 

Day Ninety-Four:

 

Now that people know where the Internet task force is located, some of them have set up a vigil for if, or when �" depending on whom you ask �" the Internet is brought back to life.

 

Here’s hoping their hope is well-placed.

 

Day Ninety-Five:

 

Okay, I’m scared.

 

Really scared.

 

I think the Internet’s come back, but I don’t know if everyone �" or anyone �" knows.  I was out and about today, replying to a text from a friend, when I was just about floored by the sight of something that I was seriously starting to think that I’d never see again.

 

The WiFi icon.

 

There I was, absentmindedly replying to a text, like I’ve done a million times before, when the little icon popped up on my phone’s screen.  I nearly let out a scream.  I looked around me to see if any of the people around me were seeing the same thing on their phones.  It’s been so long since the Internet went down that you’d think that it suddenly coming back would spark a riot of activity, right?

 

But nothing.

 

This is why I’m scared.  This is why I got scared in town and ran out of the coffee shop, stuffing my phone hastily back into my pocket.  What if I was the only person in that place to suddenly regain Internet access?  I still shudder when I think back to that poor guy who got set upon by that mob when he hoaxed about having Internet access.  What would a mob like that do to me?  I don’t even want to think about it, but I can’t stop thinking about it.

 

As soon as I got home I dug out my router �" after shutting the curtains, of course �" and fired up the laptop.  There it was, working Internet.  Back in the day I’d be straight on to my blog site, or Facebook, but the possibility that I could be back online and surrounded by a mass of Net-starved junkies gave me a real serious case of pause of thought.  So I checked the news sites and they were all dated back when the Internet had originally gone down.  I checked a few more sites, and the more I did the creeping sensation that I could be the only one back online started to close up my throat.

 

I don’t think I’ll open the curtains again today.

 

Day Ninety-Six:

 

I didn’t get much sleep last night.  I kept returning to my laptop to check to see if I’d imagined it, but no, the Internet was there in all its glory for me.  Well, almost; site after site and no updates since the initial crash: no evidence that anyone else has gotten back online.  I’m careful, though; really careful.  I’ve not left a single comment anywhere.  I’ve not shared an article or clicked Like, Retweet: nothing.  With every passing hour that my TV doesn’t blare into some breaking news story about how the Internet has been restored I grow more and more frightened of what will happen if somehow it gets out that I have access.  Word will travel fast, even without the Internet, and the world will converge on me for access, for answers, for God knows what.  It looks like I may have the run of the whole Internet, and all I’m prepared to use it for is to keep a check on the news outlets for any glimmer that others may be back online.

 

I can’t be the only one.  Can I?

 

Day Ninety-Seven:

 

Christ, I’m depressed.

 

Having the Internet back but seemingly being the only one �" for now �" makes me feel like I’m carrying around a terrible secret that I can never let out.  I’ve not left my house since that afternoon in the coffee shop; I’m too afraid.  I’ve never been a very good liar, and I’m just petrified that others will see it in my face and rumble me.  I’m not keeping my mysterious restored Internet access a secret out of spite or malice, but if no one else can get back online what good will me revealing my ability to do?  Again, I think back to that mob and my blood runs cold.  Hell, people will happily trample each other to death for bargains in the sales, so if it got out that one lone woman in a terrace house in the Midlands had somehow found a way back online…well, there’d be pandemonium.  I’d be lucky if people just came knocking at my door.  Something like this wouldn’t just attract the knockers, but the shouters and the kickers to.  It only takes one to light the touch paper and before you know it my little corner of the world would be a war zone.

 

Why me?

 

Day Ninety-Eight:

 

I’m still not sleeping.

 

This is driving me mad!  What’s the point in having access to something as vast as the Internet if you’re too afraid to use it?  It’s like standing in front of a vast ocean and being too afraid to even dip a toe in the surf.  Aside from refreshing the news sites I may as well be like everyone else and still be in the dark.  What’s so special about me?  Why have I been given the keys to the kingdom?  I don’t want this!  You hear me?  I DON’T WANT IT!

 

I spent the rest of today boarding myself in here.  It’s only a matter of time before someone finds out my secret.  Before they tell a friend, and they tell a friend, and before you know it I’m being dragged from my bed and strung up for hording what could be the only Internet-ready computer on the planet right now.  It’s thoughts like that which are keeping me up at night.  I’d turn my laptop off and throw my damn router away if I could, but I can’t seem to bring myself to do it.  Every time I hit refresh I hope and pray that there will be something, anything that will stop me being the only one.

 

I don’t want this.

 

Day Ninety-Nine:

 

Still nothing.

 

I don’t know how much longer I can take this.  Both off and online, I know that there are scores of people within reach of me that I’m now terrified to be around, to interact with.  I’m worrying myself sick that if I step out of my house I’ll be found out within minutes.  At the same time, I’m too scared to use the Internet properly in case it’s some kind of trap.  What if the Internet was taken away on purpose and I’ve been chosen for some sick reason as the bait.  Bait for what though I’ve no idea.  Well, if this is someone’s idea of a joke, or some kind of government experiment I want out.

 

Right now.

 

Day One Hundred:

 

I’m done.  I can’t do this anymore.  The weight is killing me.  I’ve packed a bag, left a letter for my Mom, and left my laptop logged in.  Let them find it.  I don’t care.  I refuse to be the one they poke and prod and bombard with questions and accusations when it comes out that I’ve had Internet access given back to me.  I can’t, I won’t do it.

 

I’m going to leave this notebook on the bus.  Whoever finds it can do with it what they will.

 

I’m logging off.

 

For good.

 

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