This is due to the fact that rather than spend a productive evening writing I spent an indulgent evening spodding about on the internet. Yes, there – waiting for me on the doormat when I got home from work yesterday – was a little cardboard box from my ISP. The long awaited broadband modem and micro switches. And much to my surprise, I installed the software, plugged the thing in and Robert was brother to my mother (or father, which doesn’t rhyme as well)… Actually that’s not true: neither of mine parents have a sibling called Robert, but it sounds daft if you say, “I plugged it in and Ian’s my uncle.” Just doesn’t have the same ring, does it?
But points to IFB for their stuff. Most impressed I was. I used to work there (4 years at the old internet service provision lark I was, man and boy, toughest game in the world…) so it’s nice to see the high standards I set are still being adhered to.
Actually it was kinda fun working for an ISP, we used to ‘do things’ that I probably shouldn’t mention. But oh, my, we did laugh…
However, all this internet folderol is going to take some serious management to make sure it don’t spiral out of control and eat into my precious, precious writing time. As I’ve never had access to the internet at home as I never really saw the point. I work on the damn thing every day, and have done for 10 years, so never got into the habit of browsing for fun. Maybe I’m due a technical second childhood?