Our next door neighbor ran over the cable box. Which means that, far more important than TV, there is no Internet at House 42. ::sobs:: No late-night lj updates, no email, no love.

There is no love.

And I’m sitting outside a broken phone booth, with money in my hand. …Okay, not literally, but that’s what it feels like. So, if I seem unreachable for the next few days, it’s because I am. ::sigh::

It’s not a measure of my love.

Hopefully, I’ll have time to lug Viktor to the other side of campus and sit, as I am now, in a hotspot and do emergency email checks, but I’m thinking that fun surfing nis probably not in my near future. It makes me sad. I think I need to finish rearranging my room. Just as soon as I finish my emergency email check of the day.

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