Anxiety -- feeling bereft

For twenty-four hours, 10 a.m. yesterday to 10 a.m. today, I felt anxious, bereft, desolate.  And it was ridiculous!  I knew it, I hated the fact that those were the feelings but they were undeniable.  My computer ws in the shop being "spring cleaned".  The clerk who took it said he would tell the guys in the back room that I was undergoing separation anxiety and to do their work quickly and efficiently.   I was convinced I'd have to call about 3:00 this afternoon begging for it back. But, no, they called about 9:30. I felt like Noah seeing the dove with the olive leaf.

My excuse is feeble but makes complete sense to me:  this little mechanism about 12x8x1.5 inches is my connection to many parts of the world.  I have an old fashioned land line that I do not use often.  I have not succumbed to cell phone yet -- I'm a bit of phono-phobe, have been all my life. But more than that, everything I've written -- that I didn't delete -- for the last five and a half years resides in this little container. How that's accomplished I do not understand but I know it's so.  Yes, it's also on an exterior hard drive but I can only get to  it sitting as I am now with my fingers on the keys. Well, yes, quite  a bit of it is in hard copy.  And that's a bit of a mess, in folders here and there.

The anxiety and desolation was about not having that material at hand and about not being able to access sites and people I am accustomed to reaching with a few twitches of the digits.  This would have been beyond my imagining 50  years ago.  Now I feel like a tiny lizard in that vast landscape in the photo above.  Or I did.  NOW everything is copacetic again.