As of last night, my wifi has been down for a week. Sky tell me that it's an external issue that they can only fix next Tuesday (15 days later) and this has meant that not only can I not upload blog posts (get any work done) from home, I also can't watch anything on the television. We have just about managed to work our way around the wifi side of things; using our phones as hotspots (I'm planning on asking Sky to pay the phone bill) and taking our laptops and work to friend's and family's houses. But as the days have worn on, I have come to realise that life without a television is a real struggle; not least of all because every night I know I'm missing the highlight of my year; I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here.
Before this week I didn't even realise how much we depended on the wifi. To check my emails as I'm eating my breakfast, I need wifi. To watch the news, I need wifi. To show Alex a really funny video of a cat falling off a chair (not hurting itself obviously), I need wifi. To do work in any capacity, I need wifi. To breathe, I feel like I need wifi. It seems we've accidentally become totally addicted to this invisible mindfuck that in an instant can be taken away from you.
In the good old days, when the house worked as it should, either Alex or I would rustle up something for dinner whilst the other found something to watch on the telly, but this week we have been forced to broaden our horizons in terms of evening activities (although admittedly for the first two nights we did just follow the wifi to friend's houses. Not wanting to outstay our welcome however, we realised by day three that we were going to need to make it on our own).
Do you know how much more time for life there is when there is no TV?? I had NO idea, but my Lord, I've got such a lot done. My dinner's have been more adventurous than normal, I've been smashing the planning side of work (not the actual work obviously because I HAVEN'T GOT ANY WIFI ARGHHHH!) an I've been doing more exercise because, with nothing else to do, I might as well go do something productive. But more than any of that, I realise that this house is full of so much more conversation.
Last night my friend Sophie and I went to the gym (slightly smug about that - first time in a month) and we decided to come back to my flat for dinner afterwards. Under normal circumstances, going by what we have done in the past, we probably would have put the TV on and had it as background noise whilst we cooked and then paused whatever meaningful thought we were having at 9.02pm when I'm A Celeb started.
But in the television's absence, we had to make do with sweet sweet silence... and it was SO nice. We had proper grown up conversations and then when Alex got home a few hours later, we actually properly greeted him with hugs and everything, which makes a nice and welcome change from the usual grunt that the person arriving home is usually met with from the general sofa area. Sophs then went home and Alex and I were left to actually TALK about our days, what a treat that was.
Even breakfast without the news on, I'm learning to love. Sure, I don't have a bloody clue what is going on in the world at the moment, but even I have to concede that it's nice to be able to chat with my flatmate before his day at work and find out what Alex has planned that day before he leaves.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still absolutely LIVID with Sky and did spend a large chunk of my afternoon in tears as I begged them to come out and fix the problem NOW (rather than next Tuesday which is what we have booked in). But there is something that I am grateful for this week, and that is that the valuable lesson that I learned: the television does not to be on every single minute of every single day, and when this house does once again join the land of the living, I pledge to remember that.