First World Problems: Population Coach

Sad

How the heck is everyone doing? Good? Are you doing good? That’s good. Oh, me? I’m living a life in my own personal hell, thank you for asking.

I have had no internet at my apartment for a week sans 1 hour. Not exactly the most devastating thing in the world, sure. At first, it felt good to disconnect. Living off the grid was freeing in a way. I started to pay attention to the world around me. Flowers smelled better, the air seemed fresher, my step back 3-pointer has never felt more pure. 

Then, 12 hours passed and I realized that I wasn’t off the grid…oh no…I was on the outside of the grid looking in. My friends text to ask me if I’m doing okay. I put on a brave face, creating the illusion that I could hack it, but if they could see my face (they could if I could facetime them with the internet) when I asked them how their day was and they casually throw in that they were bookcase shopping on amazon, or binge watching New Girl on Netflix, or just churning through the Chive at some funny but absolutely necessary Community memes…they would see the face of a desperate man.

The Internet is in my landlords name so I can’t do anything beside bug her to get it fixed. She’s one of those people that “knows a guy” and is actually a big shot in the local government here. I’m not going to be spiteful and mention exactly what she does or who she is, so let’s just say she’s essentially involved in city planning, meaning that anybody wanting to do any type of construction essentially has to go through her office. So yeah, she knows a lot of people that are willing to help with upkeep at her properties. For example, the water was leaking under my sink once and POOF, a guy shows up and fixes it for free within an hour.

She had one of her friends in the bizz stop by and “fix” the internet and it worked for about an hour, which was just enough time for Mr. Jersey to beat me in NBA 2K at the hands of 2007 Brian Scalabrine blocking 2000 Shaq, driving down the court and hit an uncontested buzzer beater with 7 seconds left, and then fouling the shit out of 2000 Kobe Bryant but getting away with it in the most ridiculous no-call in NBA Faux Realty, but that’s a different story for a different day. The internet promptly crashed and burned with the intensity of 1,000 suns after that game and hasn’t been back since.

I woke up today feeling optimistic. It’s summer, the Cavs have a Championship, I have a couple cool trips coming up, finished with school for the 2nd time in my life. All is seemingly as well as it can be.

Then…I get this text.

“I spoke to the internet service provider. The tech said the exterior line is in bad shape and they have scheduled someone to check it. Worst case scenario they get to it by next Monday.”

NOOO

Next Monday? NEXT MONDAY???!?!?!?! I (hopefully) could be dead by next Monday. Not to be a stereotypical millennial here, but what the hell could I conceivable do to pass the time between now and next Monday with no Internet? I already read about an hour a day, I exercise regularly, I typically go to the bar every other night, I work full time…hell I generally call one of my best friends from college daily and talk to him for at least a half hour everyday, and I still find I have at least 3 hours of downtime to mess around with on the internet. There’s only so many DVDs/offline video games a man can summit before diving head first into a cement wall of boredom.

So if you see me, and you think to yourself “Man, Coach has really lost it.” It’s because I have. I’m now forced to take the life of a spinster. When life pushes you off the grid, and you get unplugged from the Matrix and you’re NOT Neo, you have no choice but to lose it. And yes, I watched the Matrix on DVD the other day because IT’S COME TO THIS OH GOD SOMEONE PLEASE SEND HELP.

I’m sorry to have wasted your time.

Remember me fondly.

Coach
@ApacheZack
@blog30tweets

PS. My power went out last night during a thunderstorm, around 11:30 and had the same reaction as Walter White when Skylar the tramp tells him that she gave all his money to Ted Beneke

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