Yesterday morning, I had great plans to multi-task. I needed to convince my work computer to talk with my new phone (acquired when the old one decided, a few times every day, to take a 5-10 minute break ~ since it wasn’t a union phone, it got fired in favor of a younger and more energetic phone). While they were learning to talk with one another, I wanted to peruse some online resources in preparation for preaching this weekend. Further, I knew that I had a pile of e-mail correspondence to plough through.
I found my way to a coffee house near to where I’d need to be in 90 minutes, knowing that there was a wireless internet network there. Before finding a place to sit, I ordered a full pot of tea (earl grey, hot). Booting up the computer, I discovered that none of us whose faces were shining with the blue glow of a computer screen are able to see our facebook pages. The internet router is not working. There I was, full pot of tea on the table, with all my plans on pause.
Of course, five of us do what we can to convince the baristas that the router is not working. They finally receive permission from the boss to reset the router (really, they need permission?). Still, it doesn’t work, and we’re stuck doing what we can without what seems to have become a post-modern-day necessity, an internet connection.
I noticed that I was getting pretty indignant at first, mostly because I wasn’t receiving the service I (felt I) needed. As soon as the staff started trying to make things better, though, my blood pressure plummeted. I could relax, knowing there was nothing to be done. Only then could I feel good about getting work done in a different way. I know it will be ok, and I knew that all along.
I wonder, though, are we really so helpless that we can’t function without something that only 20 years ago didn’t exist? The guy next to me (probably 60 years old) was writing longhand on a yellow pad, The New York Times on the table in front of him.
Maybe I should slow down, and remember what someone has already written.