The idea of being involuntarily disconnected might induce a momentary fear that paralyses you. While I was happily ensconced in the hotel room last week, a thunderstorm raged upon the city. At one point it poured so hard that the TV reception got knocked out. At least it wasn't the WiFi, I thought.
Alas, I thought too soon.
This week, the weather had nothing to loss of connectivity; it was the hotel's decision to reboot the router that did. And along with it came a belated introduction of a Bruneian time warp served on a platter.
"Hi Ma'am, we are just rebooting the router. It will be up again in a few minutes."
Fair enough. So I waited. 90 minutes and another call later, "Hi Ma'am, yes, we are just waiting for the router to refresh. It will be up in a few minutes." Why hello Christine, welcome to the dimension where time has been imbued with stretchy properties.
It was another 40 minutes before the ping of my phone signaled the resurrection of a dependency.
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