Upon moving into my new room, one of the first things I did was to get out my laptop and attempt to connect to the internet. When I discovered that I couldn’t, that there would be no internet for at least the first few days of term, I almost burst into tears. It just proves how dependent on it I am, when the prospect of just a few days (which has swiftly become a week, but who’s counting?) without the internet can reduce me to a quivering wreck. But, surprisingly enouygh, I’m rather enjoying its absence.
It isn’t as though I’ve been completely deprived, having a phone with internet capabilities (albeit limited ones unless I want my phone bill to skyrocket), and a free-to-use computer room five minutes down the road, but I have cut my internet usage drastically. I’ve taken to scheduling my blog posts, checking my e-mails once or twice a day instead of the usual twelve times, and above all, not spending hours refreshing Twitter, playing free games, or Googling obscure words “just because I can.” Without my usual means of procrastination, I’ve discovered the joy that is having enough time to do everything I want to.
In fact, I’m almost dreading the moment when the internet returns. Because, despite the best of intentions, I know that I’ll revert straight back to my old habits. No more intensive studying, no more being in bed by one, just hours and hours of internet-based procrastination. Maybe I’ve just gone completely round the twist, but I love how productive not having the internet makes me. I only want it back for the TV. (Oh BBC iPlayer, how could I have taken you for granted for so long?)