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Wednesday, March 25, 2009
My Secret Struggle
I remember the exact moment it happened. Standing in the hotel lobby, purse in hand, shopping shoes on feet, ready to face the German-themed streets of the little Michigan village -- the moment is embedded in my memory forever. The moment my resolve melted, my shell shattered, and a pain I didn't even know I possessed began to eat at me in full-force, pushing me away from my waiting family, urging me toward the sign in the corner of the lobby.
"Computer for Hotel Guests Only."
Computer. Internet. Email. How long had it been since I'd last checked my email? Monday morning, before I left? And it was now Tuesday afternoon. More than 24 hours later. 24 hours of built-up emails, 24 hours of opportunity for an email to arrive that could change my life.
My hands twitched. My eyes watered. What if I had gotten an all-important email from an agent, claiming that if I didn't respond within a day, I'd lose all hope of being represented? I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let that kind of opportunity slip away.
The red chair swiveled when I fell into it. I ignored my family's pleas to begin our second day of shopping mayhem and clicked on the Internet icon. Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes into agonizing hours in which my heart spasms grew more potent. I had to check my email NOW. Didn't the slow connection speed understand? My FUTURE could depend on this, and it DARED to load each page as though I was any other guest.
Four bars. Five bars. Six bars.
A log-in page. I pounded in my email address and password, unable to focus on the screen in my excitement. Load, dang it. LOAD! WHY WASN'T IT LOADING? CONSPIRACY! CONSPIRACY! I'll show it what a REAL error message looks like! I'll--
I'm back from vacation now.