My better half is an engineer and kept telling me my choppy wireless connection was a “user problem.”
Well I knew that. I was the user and having problems, no? Wait, no, he said I was causing the problems. Or that my snobby ass Mac was causing it. His pc was working just fine with the wireless. Well, I’m not the type to ride his back to fix the damn thing or to even complain very much. So this dragged on for months.
Finally, this week the kids told him they have been jacking wireless from one of the neighbors. Can’t be my Mac. Can’t be me. It has to be the box. That jury rigged box that…
I have no idea why he could always play his online video games without interruption or why he never experienced problems with the internet superhighway while the rest of us were stalled on an internet gravel road. He does know because he just fixed it. He tried to explain it with his engineer brain while my poor pitiful flowers and rainbows mind just wondered Is it going to keep working? Just fucking tell me, is it going to keep working?
If it ain’t, here’s my plan. Find the neighbor with the wireless signal that is all over my house. Pay half their internet bill. Never discuss internet with hubby again. Oh, yeah, yeah, find internet boyfriend who will explain wireless connections in flower and rainbow language. Okay, just kidding on that last one.
This reminds me of when people go to the doctor with a headache or stomach ache and after a slew of tests, the doctor can’t find anything so he hands the patient the number to a psychiatrist. They do that don’t they?