Low point (or I should be ironing, but I'll read this book instead)

July 6^th: We may not have internet, but we DO have a computer, so nothing is stopping me from writing a few posts and publishing them after we get connected again. Which may be…never.

But I have too many things bouncing around like pinballs inside my head, and if nothing else, I need to write for ME. I need to show up and hash out these things because, as Glennon Melton has said, “we don’t wait till we understand to write, we write so we can understand.” I truly believe that.

Confession: writing this blog is 90% for my own benefit. It’s my therapy, my “routine”, my coping mechanism, my PROCESS, my ability to understand the how and what and why of my feelings, a way to reflect and ultimately learn. And also to remember. So I’m sorry to say that leaves only 10% for you, readers. Selfish, isn’t it? But honest, and that’s important, I think.

Speaking on honesty, I wish I could say that not having internet has been a surprising blessing…that we’ve spent hours in deep discussion about the meaning of life, that I’ve cooked organic, healthy, well-balanced meals every night, and that we spend our evenings reading the complete works of Shakespeare aloud to each other. Oh and that while Z is at work during the day, I dust and clean and bake goodies for our new neighbors and iron Zach’s socks.

Yes, I wish I could say that.

But here’s the truth. When Monday came and went, and then Tuesday came and went and we still had no internet, I cried. Not a snotty, ugly cry. Just a few tears of frustration. But crying nonetheless. My little heart was so set on having internet and being able to Skype! And gchat! And email! I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss writing. Before I started blogging, my writing took the form of emails. I have friends spread all over the country (globe?) and we sling emails back and forth constantly. Sometimes they’re short and sweet, filled with ridiculous thoughts or funny pictures. Other times they’re long and heavy, weighted with fears and questions and reaching out for understanding. But not being able to have that connection and that outlet for the past week has been harder than I expected.

And maybe, probably, it wouldn’t be so bad if I had other interaction during the day. But right now, I don’t. I don’t talk to anyone during the day while Z is gone. I don’t have conversations, and if I do, they’re short and fragmented half-German, half English, wholly misunderstood. I don’t have friends here yet. I know I will. I’m not worried about that so much…but it’s still early. We’re still brand new. I’m still getting the house together and making it home.

The truth is that I was really discouraged when we found it will be another week (at least) before we get connected.

The truth is that it’s lonely during the day right now. The truth is that one day this week I sat on the couch and read an entire book in one sitting. Low point. (Sarah’s Key, great book)

But what am I going to do? I can’t change the fact that Telekom has a monopoly in Germany so they pretty much can connect our internet whenever they want and know we’ll still be their customer because they have no competition. So I take a deep breath and decide to write anyways, even with no audience or recipient or response. I decide to be productive during the day, to have purpose, to be a good housewife. I decide to learn how to prepare German spargel (white asparagus) even though I know it will take 10 minutes (AT LEAST) for the recipe to load on my internet-less phone. What other choice do I have? Life goes on, and it’s ok.

I might as well do these things now, because when we DO get connected, I’m going to have a Skype/gchat FEAST and Z will have to iron his own socks, poor guy.