Why do they call it cold turkey, anyway?

Turns out I don’t even have a computer in my office for the next week, so the chances of me managing to post every day are looking increasingly Nicole Ritchie. And I am wrecked tonight. I enjoyed a peaceful hour’s sleep last night between eleven pm and midnight, and a luxuriously long stretch between three and five thirty this morning. My new office has a policy of not allowing its employees to drink coffee at their desks, so I hope you can feel my pain here.

It’s strangely peaceful, working without a computer. Once the withdrawal pains abated and my hands stopped shaking, I found myself able, for the first time in months, to concentrate on the same thing for more than five minutes. I don’t know about you, but even when I’m reading the world’s most entertaining thing on the internet; one of my favourite blogs, or a snarky recap, or an email from a close friend, I can rarely get through a page without flicking to another screen and reading the two in tandem.

And yet today, I was able to sit down, open a file, and an hour later find myself able to recite all the relevant details from four years of litigation. I loved it, I loved it, I loved it. And I will take it as a favour if any jaded young litigators out there refrain from telling me that it’ll turn out to be more of an ill-conceived infatuation than true love. Let me have my illusions, at least for today.

Still, nice as it is to work computer-free, coming home to the world’s slowest dial-up connection bites. Even buying a laptop and paying for remote wireless won’t improve matters much. I may have to move back into the city.