"When the Wi-Fi Goes Down for 5 Minutes and Civilization Crumbles"
It starts innocently. A spinning circle. A page not loading. You think, “No big deal, I’ll refresh.” Then you realize… it’s not the page. It’s the Wi-Fi. Suddenly, panic. Your hands get clammy. You start moving your phone around like you’re trying to find the signal sweet spot… as if standing on one leg near the microwave will magically reconnect you to the universe.
Five minutes in, you’re negotiating with the router like it’s a hostage situation:
“Come on, buddy. We’ve been through so much. Don’t do this to me now.”
You’ve reset it three times. Unplugged it. Replugged it. Stared deeply into its blinking lights like they’ll blink back in Morse code:
“You should go outside.”
OUTSIDE?! Are you kidding? Without Wi-Fi, outside is just… raw nature. There are birds. And sun. And conversations. Ugh. You’d rather scroll through your existential dread in peace.
Now you start doing weird things, like attempting to read an actual book. A book! With pages! And no ads! It’s barbaric. You pick it up like it’s a relic from an ancient civilization. Then immediately put it down because—guess what—you can’t Google a word you don’t know.
At this point, you're checking the Wi-Fi like it’s a bakery window. You don’t even need anything online—you just want to know it’s there.
Finally, after what feels like 6 years (actually 12 minutes), it’s back. Your phone reconnects, and you hear angels singing in the background. You go straight to social media and tell everyone what happened like you just survived a shipwreck.
And you promise yourself, “Next time, I won’t panic.” You will. Oh, you absolutely will.
Danwhite
56 days ago"When the Wi-Fi Goes Down for 5 Minutes and Civilization Crumbles"
It starts innocently. A spinning circle. A page not loading. You think, “No big deal, I’ll refresh.” Then you realize… it’s not the page. It’s the Wi-Fi. Suddenly, panic. Your hands get clammy. You start moving your phone around like you’re trying to find the signal sweet spot… as if standing on one leg near the microwave will magically reconnect you to the universe.
Five minutes in, you’re negotiating with the router like it’s a hostage situation:
You’ve reset it three times. Unplugged it. Replugged it. Stared deeply into its blinking lights like they’ll blink back in Morse code:
OUTSIDE?! Are you kidding? Without Wi-Fi, outside is just… raw nature. There are birds. And sun. And conversations. Ugh. You’d rather scroll through your existential dread in peace.
Now you start doing weird things, like attempting to read an actual book. A book! With pages! And no ads! It’s barbaric. You pick it up like it’s a relic from an ancient civilization. Then immediately put it down because—guess what—you can’t Google a word you don’t know.
At this point, you're checking the Wi-Fi like it’s a bakery window. You don’t even need anything online—you just want to know it’s there.
Finally, after what feels like 6 years (actually 12 minutes), it’s back. Your phone reconnects, and you hear angels singing in the background. You go straight to social media and tell everyone what happened like you just survived a shipwreck.
And you promise yourself, “Next time, I won’t panic.”
You will. Oh, you absolutely will.