Ink Spots: Of Smoke Signals and Such

Ink Spots

Jan 29
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My internet crashed again, this time taking the phones down with it. Or maybe the phone line crashed, taking the internet down with it. I’m thinking of resorting to communication by smoke signals.
 
It took seven hours for everything to be fixed. During that time, I was able to use my new cell phone, a Jitterbug, which our kids gave me for Christmas. They hated my old Tracfone, which was the horse-and-buggy of cell phones. I didn’t mind it – it always told callers my voicemail was full, even though I’d never received a single voicemail. I thought that was kind of neat, because it made me look really popular.
 
I do like this new cell phone, mainly because I think Jitterbug is a fun name and it’s fire-engine red. And it’s fairly simple to use, no frills like the Smartphones everybody else seems to have. Technologically, I am in favor of no frills.
 
I was ordered by one of our bossier children to throw away the Tracfone. It’s a good thing to ignore your children sometimes. At one point during the seven-hour marathon of trying to repair whatever was broken, I misplaced the Jitterbug. Ever resourceful, I called its number from the Tracfone and – huzzah – I heard it ringing and found it.
 
It was in my sweatshirt pocket. 
 
Don’t judge.
 
When everything was finally resolved, I worried that my Lifeline connection might have gone astray, since it was flashing oddly. (I subscribed to Lifeline awhile ago so I can practice for when I get old.)
 
I had a challenging time getting through to the powers-that-be to let them know I was fine and please do not send ambulances or helicopters to rescue me from whatever dire straits they imagined me to be in.
 
Awhile ago, I detailed, bravely, all the things that had gone wrong with my week. Here’s an update on those issues, in case inquiring minds want to know. And even if they don’t.
 
Sad update: I changed the batteries on the doorbells. They still don’t work.
 
Happy update: The car got fixed and no longer roars at me.
 
Happy/Sad update: Still haven’t found the leak in the library ceiling, but the bubbles haven’t gotten any bigger. 
 
O yeah, and as we speak, I’m recovering (bravely) from Round II of pneumonia.
 
I fear Joe Btfsplk is alive and well and still living in my house.

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