Day 2 of no home Internet is about to become Day 3 and desperation is beginning to set in

I'm not Andy Rooney, but I'm feeling cantankerous and curmudgeonly these days and, like the late Mr. Rooney, I'm not afraid to tell you about it.

I don't know for certain when our home Internet went down. It may have been out Sunday morning before my wife and I went to Mass; it was certainly gone afterward.

I don't overreact. I know the drill. First unplug the router, then restart it.

Nope.

Then unplug the Internet modem. Restart that.

Nope.

Only then did I try to find a telephone number where I could report my situation and, perhaps, find out whether my issue was a failure of my equipment or whether I was caught up in a larger problem. I found a number fairly quickly.

The AI that answered my call told me, in an annonyingly cheery voice, that it needed to run a few tests to check the problem. These tests took a bit of time. "Thank you for your patience," the cheery AI said. Goes to show you how bad AI is at reading us meatsacks: I had no patience at all. And that was at the beginning of this odyssey.

When the tests were concluded, the AI agreed that there was an outage in our area. But, the AI enthused, AT&T is aware of the problem and they are working to fix it. The AI estimated that repairs would be complete by 2:14 p.m.

But the Bears game started at noon! We cut the cable cord some years back; streaming was cheaper (well, it used to be). On the other hand, recent Bears games had all come down to 4th quarter; perhaps it would be alright.

The oddly specific estimated time for restoration of service came... and went... and the angry red lights were still flashing on the Internet modem. I called again. The AI was still cheery, but it may have been drinking. After again running a few tests ("thank you for your patience") and confirming that there was still an outage in my area, the AI offered a new estimated restoration time of "dollar sign-brackets." The Bears managed to win without my watching.

I called a couple more times yesterday, but the AI, perhaps embarrassed by its estimated restoration time of "dollar sign-brackets," refused to give any more estimated restoration times. After running its lengthy tests, while thanking me -- again -- for my patience, the AI did add -- in its insistently upbeat way -- that it understood how frustrating this was, but I didn't believe that any more than you do.

The Internet was still down this morning. So I called again. After running a few more tests (how many are there?), and thanking me for my patience, and conceding that there was, indeed, still an outage in my area, the AI braved a new restoration time: 4:50 p.m.

I understand that it's cold outside. But wouldn't you think that a ginormous corporation like AT&T could dispatch a technian to look for the remains of whatever squirrel that bit through the wire that brought down our local Internet service? Given how much it charges for its services, AT&T presumably could even furnish its technician with a heated truck.

If AT&T did have someone driving around the neighborhood looking for a squirrel carcass, he or she was not successful in his search, because 4:50 came and went this afternoon and the Internet was not restored.

I figured out how to sign on to the AT&T website today; this way, I don't have to listen to the AI anymore. But, since the 4:50 p.m. restoration time slipped by, the website has stopped guessing restoration times. At least it didn't tell me that my service would be restored by dollar sign-bracket.

And, without the distraction of TV, I had a chance to catch up on my reading a little. I read my AT&T bill for one. It seems AT&T is going to increase my bill by $5 starting next month. Who'd have guessed that?

Thank you for your patience.