Disconnected

So my cable and internet have been down for 19 hours and counting, and, I have to say, I never realized how addicted I am to them until now. It's just so quiet in my apartment... and I don't do quiet well. It's not that I stay home and watch TV and surf the internet all day—I go out and do lots and lots of things—but when I am home, I usually have the computer and/or TV turned on because I like the noise and I like to know I'm connected—you know what I mean?

At first I thought the silence would be nice. I've meaning to start a new book that my editor sent me called The Swimming Pool by Holly LeCraw. It comes out in April and is supposed to be really juicy, so after finding a nice spot on the sofa, I cracked it open. After twenty minutes of reading to nothing but the sounds of the pitter-pattering raindrops outside (no doubt the cause of the service interruption), I started getting anxious. I usually read in bed, and I'm fine with silence in my bedroom, but if I'm sitting in the living room—even if I'm reading—I need to have noise.

After distracting myself with my BlackBerry, I eventually retired to my bedroom where, I'm proud to say, I plowed through 125 pages of my book. And it is juicy, and sexy, and passionate—and not in a trashy, Jackie Collins kind of way. It's filled with intrigue and murder and it's just delicious.

So anyway, these Time Warner mofos better get this shiznit fixed soon or heads are gonna roll. (Not really, but I've always wanted to say that.)

PS - Sending this from Starbucks.