6/14/11 | 7:13pm
I come home and sit down to watch a little Oprah: Season 25 Behind the Scenes (did y’all see the one with Jennifer Hudson? That was intense), but I discover my cable and internet are not working. I text my husband, who is at a Phish concert, but I try not to judge because we all have our hobbies and it’s fun to remember the 90s. He sends me the account info. I call Comcast and a nice man named Clay walks me through some steps to determine if the problem was with a device or connection. When those steps prove ineffective, he schedules a technician to come to the house the next day between 2-5pm. It’s the last remaining slot on Wednesday, he tells me. How lucky I feel. How fortunate. (Call length- 14:01)
I make arrangements to leave work early the next day, and go outside with my dog. (Her name is Daisy. She is a Jack Russell Beagle. They call them Jackabees, but I cannot bring myself to use that term because it sounds like a sex club for bumblebees.) I find that the coaxial cable running from the house is dangling in the air above my head. This is a relief, as tomorrow I will be able to show the technician the source of the problem, and I’ll be watching Oprah yelling “I need my shoes” in no time.