Not on a wheelbarrow.
On an Internet connection. With an Internet connection:
– I can type with my fingers. All 10. I never took a typing class in school, but I do prefer not to use just my thumbs. And I think I’m developing tendonitis.
– I can watch video. As long as it’s not blocked, anyway. My “unlimited data plan” apparently is realistically priced by making YouTube unavailable.
– We’ll be able to download stuff. And upload stuff.
– I can work in Word and email attachments to the folks at my new writing gig. Without the use of usb drives, CDs, other people’s PCs or the car.
– (I hope) I can listen to NPR. Maybe the evening programming in the morning and vice versa, but do I care?
– I can compose better blog posts, with better writing and better photos.
– My posture will improve, along with my mood, my knowledge of current events and weather forecasts, and possibly also my looks. As a result of my improved posture, of course.
– My fiction writing’s progress will slow. Probably exponentially.
– I will catch up with my beloved Dingoes.
Aren’t those enough reasons? Why do I have to call daily to ask, and still I get no response? Why have they told me to stay close to the phone, only to ignore me? And what’s this, claiming to have attempted to reach me on the number I expressly told them not to use, because it is my husband’s mobile and he is out of the country? Twice, they claim?!
I know, enough whining. I just thought you all might like to know I am not the careless, thoughtless, neglectful one. Your beef is with the phone company.
But, here. To show I do care, a palm tree.