My computer is still in the shop for repairs, so I've come to the Cyber Cafe across the street from my local high school. For $4 an hour I can have internet access.

I'm the only woman in the place and I'm at least 40 years younger than everyone else, including the proprietor/boss. They're all really polite with me and the A/C is wonderful and the place is pretty clean, considering the venue.

They sell really good coffee (you can't bring in your own comestibles or potables) so that's a plus.

I've never been here before, though I drive by the place all the time. The chairs and keyboards and other set-ups are obviously made for people a lot larger than I. I'll have to bring a pillow with me next time.

This 3-day weekend will mark a full week since I haven't had a computer at home, and I'm really experiencing withdrawal symptoms. It wasn't too bad while I was at work, because I can access the Internet, albeit through a firewall which blocks Hotmail and most video websites. But now that I'm home for the Labor Day weekend, the empty spot on my computer table mocks me with its nakedness.

I may have to come back here, though it's a pain, because I have so many online friends and activities, that a significant part of my social contact depends on the Internet. As you know, if you read this journal regularly, I hate using the telephone for anything, and other than bare minimum, won't talk on the infernal machine at all (except for pay).

Watson, don't come here. I don't need you.

Back out into the heat to do errands and go home and clean house and do laundry. The "joys" of "fulfillment" for everywoman. If I can't retire, maybe I will get a housecleaning service after all. There has to be some balance somewhere.

Later, y'all.