Maybe. Maybe not.
I recently posted about how my blog got lost. Then I posted about how our email stopped working. Today Heath tried to fix email and lost the blog again but then he said he got everything to work. Yay!
So I clicked the send/receive button and have been seeing errors all morning. Even after closing and reopening my email. Of course the only new email I had before trying to click the send/receive button was from Jo-Ann’s. I don’t remember why I thought signing up for their daily emails was a good idea. I rarely go to Jo-Ann’s and when I do I, of course, forget to print the coupon. Usually I can’t use their coupons anyway. There’s always a paragraph of fine print excluding items from the coupon. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a coupon that didn’t exclude all the scrapbooking products.
This no email thing makes me feel really isolated from the rest of the world. This is the number one way to reach me. There’s nothing quite like getting a phone call about how all my emails keep bouncing back. Yep, I know. I don’t know why and I’m sorry. What can I do for you?
There’s nothing like completing visiting teaching and thinking it would be great to be proactive and email my supervisor before she has her supervisor email me about it. But I can’t.
There’s nothing quite like the feeling of flying without a net because the school emails all correspondence to me. I thought there would be no homework this week since it’s a short week before Spring Break. I talked to Gavin’s teacher anyway. I told her that our email is temporarily not working. She said that she can’t get on hers either. Then she announced to the parents that if we didn’t get an email of the homework cover sheet a hard copy would be sent home. Hmm. I hope she understood what I told her.
I clicked send/receive again. No love from the email gods. It’s still reporting errors that the server is down or can’t connect. The walls are closing in on me. The isolation is suffocating. The trilling bong sound of a new email is a distant memory now. So distant that I wonder if describing it as a trilling bong sound is even accurate. Does it sound like the doorbell? Or a bell? The phone? No, not the phone. I don’t remember! The tears are welling up even as I type threatening to spill over. I feel as if I’m lost in the mountains behind a tree that people can’t seem to see. I’m here! I’m still alive!
I know. I’m so overdramatic!