Twenty four hours without the internet. I was wondering if I could do it.
I couldn’t. Lisa called me up and, knowing she has a cable connection at her fingertips, I surfed the net through her – checking to see whether we would be getting any rain and whether my horoscope indicated a lottery win. Then Small Brother (the one from whom I had zero contact over the span of Xmas, his birthday and New Year to the point where I thought he’d been lost in the tsunami – and I bet he wished he had been when I finally tracked him down) called from the UK, and he was at work. So I got him to check the (non-existent) rain too. I realised that surfing through someone at the end of a phone is better than having no net at all.

But there was an upside. I made it through the weekend papers, I penned a letter to my Nan in Marblehead, ignored a moody M, clapped on my headphones and played around with css on my laptop. It’s like I’ve been fasting!