The RWB for me is a manic time filled with drinking, workshops, meditations, rituals, classes, conversations, connections and a swirl of other chaotic massive everything ontop of everything else.
I went to the RWB with phone service. I came home, I was so drunk I didn’t even care at the time about what was going on. I pass out in bed fully clothed and wake up the next morning. I try to call Nature, my ride to the RWB and find out that blam, no phone.
I cross over to Barb’s. I knock on the door and she answers. This is freaking saturday, which means that while i’m hung over, I’m trying to reassemble my life until that night at least, and of course SBC is closed. I do my obligatory call, and the answering machine service says that a trouble ticket had been opened.
I revel for the rest of the weekend, crashing in someone’s room.
I still don’t have phone.
Oh did I mention that sometimes when they reconnect my phone they forget my DSL? I’ve come to hate a blinking DSL light as much as christians hate looking at anything that is opposite of their own positions. Okay, maybe that was a little below the belt, but it works with my mindset.
They finally came out and fixed my line, saying this time it was a problem in the CO. Problems in the CO are very common in SBC, apparently.
And of coruse, I have one last thought.