There's more to life than reading, but it's a good place to start

Meet the piece of shit that nearly broke up my marriage. It's been a very tense couple of days. We moved house, finally growing up and buying a place of our own. But it came at a price. We had to wait three days for the Wi-Fi to be installed. This was basically one of the biggest challenges of married life I have yet encountered - life without the internet. Both my hubby and I do a lot of business online as well staying in touch with friends and family (all our loved ones live across the pond, while we suffer exile here in the UK for the next five years due to work and school commitments) so without our precious broadband we were just trapped, pacing, scowling and snapping at each other as we pictured emails, bills and deadlines mounting. Blood pressure rose, my hands were shaking, I smoked endlessly. 

So today was the day. The technician arrived. Our reflective jacket clad saviour appeared in our doorway, an angelic glow surrounding him as he installed our broadband and telephone connection. I could have hugged him. I excitedly awaited the grand switching on of the broadband router, thinking we should have had a minor local celebrity come and cut a ribbon or something. You know, celebrate this occasion. Well ..... I gave my hubby one job. He literally had one job - to collect the router from our old home and bring it here to our new apartment. So I turned to him. I said Where's the router hubs?! my face aglow with anticipation, eyes shining eagerly. He stared at me. The router? he queried. Yup. He'd forgotten to bring it. I took a deep breath, hands balled into fists and asked through gritted teeth if he'd be so kind as to drive over to our old apartment and pick it up. So he went. Somehow this took two hours. I awaited his return with baited breath. He held the router aloft triumphantly upon his return, plugged the thing into the wall socket with a flourish and ..... He'd forgotten to bring the power cable. Well this was the final straw for me. I'm not proud to admit it but I snapped. I had waited three goddam days for my sodding Wi-Fi and not only did the router get left behind, it somehow eventually made it here without a freaking power cable. So guess who had to walk all the way across the city to pick up the damn thing? Yup. Me. I think the moral of the story is never underestimate how long it takes to train a husband and never attempt to live life without the internet. It doesn't work. 

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