the ocean always dreamed blue dreams

So it’s twelve o’clock and my son and I are watching a movie. It’s not one I’m enjoying particularly. Four attractive American kids have traveled into the countryside to visit some ruins. A crazed man appears and shoots one of them, after which they are held hostage, or to put it in the words of one of them, “quarantined.” There is, it seems, a plant, which is more than just a plant, and I don’t really need to see the rest to know where this is going.

I don’t care though. I have just taken a journey myself, and I am lying there on the couch spent and winded, so to speak, and this is my solace.

Two weeks ago, on a Tuesday morning I got up and made my way to the living room. I sat down at my computer and attempted to get on the internet. I was unable too, for some reason, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. I turned to the T.V., and that is when it all became clear to me, because my T.V. had been turned OFF, or as my cable company likes to put it, my service had been “interrupted.” Queue Psycho music here. An entire week lay before me before I would be able to pony up the necessary funds, as one of the joys of being a teacher is that we only get paid once a month.

The first day was very disconcerting. After that the days weren’t so bad, but the evenings seemed long and a little empty. I solved that problem by going over to my boyfriend’s house every night, a little act of selfishness he didn’t seem to mind as it was something I had not managed heretofore. Some of my offspring were out of town. The one that stayed here showed admirable coping abilities also. In fact life was quite manageable. I went to the library and used the computers there, and I had a great book I was reading. I missed the convenience of having television and the internet. I missed the noise. I missed the illusion of entertainment, but life was bearable.

Then my other kids came home. At this point in the countdown we had Sunday afternoon and Monday and Tuesday left before payday. It was the longest week.

In addition to having no T.V. and no internet, it was hot. Not so hot that our lives were in danger, but it was uncomfortable just the same. We were enduring a heat wave in our area, with temperatures hovering around 103 degrees. At that point my air conditioner just doesn’t work very well. I do have a small fan to help move the air around and that makes it surprisingly bearable.

So there we were, hot and bored. I stayed home so I wouldn’t seem to be deserting the home front in its hour of need. The hours crawled by; I was a thirsty (wo) man clawing my way to the lone oasis.

Wednesday came, and I shelled out the necessary funds to have our services restored. They promised us that service would be restored within four hours. We were so excited. I felt a little like Ralphie in "A Christmas Story", about to get my own version of a Daisy air rifle. Four hours came and went, and no T.V. I called back. My payment hadn’t posted, and I had to do it again. We waited four more hours. By this time it was 8:00 at night. My oldest son called yet again. He was told that our service would actually be turned on within 24 hours. Our hopes began to deflate like a balloon at a party. I went to bed, and my son, the night owl, did too. Sleep seemed the best anesthetic. We left the T.V on so we would know when our service had been restored. I woke up once in the middle of the night, my ears straining to hear invisible sounds. Sighing, I went back to sleep. The next day came and went. It, too, crawled by. It was the longest day. Finally at 4:00 my son called our cable provider yet again. This kind soul pushed a “refresh” button, and voila, we had T.V. Evidently, we’d been getting the cable, but not getting the cable. Whatever. For our troubles we will also be getting some premium channels free for the next three months. We just have to remember to call and cancel it at the end of that time or it’s not so free any more.

As it turned out, our computer had also acquired a virus. But that is another story. When I awakened in the middle of that last long night and lay listening for the sound of the T.V., such a surreal moment, I leaned over and scribbled this:

How friendly
the sound of my T.V

I barely notice
how muted now
the sounds from
the other room

But what really matters is that we can now watch all the Cops episodes our little hearts’ desire. And I can blog. Life is good.