or my curling iron

Once I lived on the farthest-flung of a chain of tiny islands, accessible only by boat or plane. We were accustomed to weekly power outages and frequently joked about being the last in a long chain of extension cords. One day I sat on my front steps enjoying the fine weather, having been kicked off my computer for lack of power. A wet-headed, worried-looking tourist drove down our sandy lane, leaned out of her window, and accosted me.

“Is your power out, too?” she called.
“Yep,” I replied laconically. “It’s out on the whole island. Happens all the time,” I reassured her.
“Oh, thank heaven,” she breathed, patting her chest dramatically. “I thought it was my hairdryer.”

Today my internet connection seemed impossibly sluggish. Nothing would upload, pages weren’t being served, and as I labored to get my studying done, handle my emails, and maintain my blogs (seven at last count), I began to wonder if the slowness I was experiencing was a result of all the mighty bandwidths I was sucking up with my personal hulking presence on the internet. Then I caught myself. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t MY hairdryer.

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