"Anticipating a Dive"

I’m a bit thirsty for my diet of pixels. We had a “malicious computer virus” this weekend. Well, we thought it was malicious. Uh, we thought it was a virus too. I dismantled the entire network. But there was neither malice nor virus. It was just the failings of “big broth-“ – I mean Comcast. But for a moment it did look like the entire home network was affected and every program on every computer was completely obliterated. Said faux virus caused such tragedy of life it actually made it into Sunday’s handwritten (can you say Amish?) sermon: “Is a computer a computer if you can’t get the internet?” No. Just a calculator. And, “Is a believer a believer without good deeds?” No, just calculating.

Upon returning home (with very little Post Traumatic Sermon Syndrome I might add), I called the purveyors of  “xfinity”. It's no suprise that I spent an eternity spiraling downward into Dante-like levels of a fiery voicemail hell. It turned out that said life-giving home network was actually fine and dandy. Whew! It's now up and running and it is with great anticipation that I’ll be diving in to get my "pixfix". But for fear of diving in too deeply I should perhaps tether myself to a stationary object. Do they have mouse extension cords?

But my Olympic swan dive will have to wait until tomorrow because today we have spanko visitors from the east on the horizon – a first encounter for “yours truly”. But I am not as trepidatious about the whole thing as Her Royal Sweetness may feel. We’ll show them the area we live in, the “church” perhaps, and also grab a bite to eat. I’m looking a little bit forward to it actually. Not overly excited. Just “am” about it. It’s right. It fits. It’s good.

I suppose that Her Royal Sweetness is thirsty for her own diet of pixels. Yep, she’ll need to get her chat on. That could be a problem huh. You know how she gets: tunnel vision, highly focused (distracted?), “mainlining” chat and all. So, if you see a pair of boots sticking out of a computer screen somewhere just know that I sacrifically cut my own cord, dove in with paddle in hand to extract the needle out of her arm.