#firstworldproblems

The power is out.  And you know what that means in this day and age:  no internet, no firing up the microphone to do voice over auditions, no getting the car out of the garage, no laundry. No internet – oh, did I say that already?

My first reaction to hearing the power would be out for several hours this morning was relief. A deep sigh, even. What a glorious thought! Now I can get some writing done, I thought.  No checking email for auditions to do, since I can’t do them anyway.  No distractions, I thought.

And then I took a picture of the crane reaching over the house to replace our worn out power pole and posted it on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook.

And then I checked for comments on Instagram and Facebook until my iPhone battery ran dry. 

Ok, NOW, I can sit down and get some writing done.  What’s that noise?  My senses are bombarded not only by the work going on behind my back yard, but also by the incessant noise of city workers grinding a tree stump at the front of the house.  Then there’s the trash truck coming by.  Maybe I should’ve just fled to Starbucks when I had the chance and could still get my car out of the garage – at least there I’d have the internet and my distractions would be the normal ones.

I have been given a gift of no outside influences and I can’t stop my mind from wandering.  Unnerved at my lack of ability to calm down and focus on the enjoyable task of writing, I think perhaps there IS something to this adult ADHD thing, after all.  And, maybe I have it.  Between gazing out the back window to make sure the telephone pole guy hasn’t fallen to his death, to peering out the front door at the noisy tree grinders across the street, to listening to my growling tummy long for the smoothie I was about to make for breakfast, and now can’t, I am undone.  And a bit disappointed, really. 

I have prided myself on becoming a 50-something tech-savvy modern woman.  My friends and family come to me for answers.  I am the I.T. guy in my house.  My adult kids say things like “you post too much stuff, mom.”  I proudly wear this badge up front and center. 

But now I fear I am a classic connect-aholic.  Am I addicted to the INTERNET? 

I want to be able to have a nice, calm, productive writing day, I really do – but the longing for connecting with others drives my day, especially since I work from home.  Alone in my studio/office all day, it’s somehow comforting to know I can always chat with a fellow voiceover talent via Facebook if I have a pause in my day.  Or I can post a comment in a voiceover group such as “the phrase ‘in perpetuity’ is like kryptonite for me today” and watch the LOL’s and virtual pats on the back come rolling through the comments section.  How pathetic am I?

Part of me wants to force myself to go without power for a week and REALLY get some writing done.  Part of me wants to find a therapist who can rid me of this creeping annoyance I feel at myself.  And part of me just wants my internet back, darnit!  I know, I know - I can see the hashtags now - #firstworldproblems.

An hour later, I am calm. Serene, even.  The tree grinding has stopped. The power pole replacement noise has dulled to just a couple of men chatting while they work.  The trash trucks are infrequent passers-by.  I had a bowl of cereal instead of a smoothie and it did not kill me.  And my power is still out.  It turns out, I can adjust after all! Just give me a minute. Or Sixty.  I have no internet to distract me and 71% battery left on my laptop.

After that, there’s always pen & paper.