Yesterday evening—around 5:03 p.m. to be approximate—the Husband came into the bedroom where Molly T.K. Cat and I were taking a snooze. Well, Molly napped while I clicked the TV remote in search of a show that would invite sleep for a few minutes. (Lack of sleep was finally making me feel yucky, for lack of ability to think of precise words.)
"The modem is dead," announced the Husband.
I was promptly alert and in a state of panic. How was I going to finish my last two assignments? How was I going to send them to the editor? How was I going to. . . you get the picture.
The Husband and I went instantly into troubleshooting mode. The husband went back to his computer to play a tetris game (which allows him to think he says), and I went searching for a phone book.
I called the computer shop where we bought the last modem. Unfortunately, the shop just closed. Bummer. When something as vital a…