My name is Janine Fitzpatrick and I have a problem. There is a possibility I may be addicted to the internet.

On arrival in the picturesque Tumbarumba I discovered I had no mobile phone coverage. This of course means I can’t hotspot my phone to my ipad and create my blogging masterpieces which are such an intergral part of your day. People I had even purchased a wireless keyboard and learnt how to bluetooth it to the iPad to try to avoid the countless typing and grammatical areas that appear when I attempt to type on the iPad. Look at me techno geek queen.

However the queen’s grand plan for blogging on the road was foiled at the first stop, no phone coverage.

Obviously, the universe is working against my attempt at blogging world domination. Tell me, how is it that the man who thinks blogging is, well a bit silly really, and owns one of those old-fashioned phones, you know without a touchscreen or internet access, how can he still have phone access? While me with my swanky iPhone 4 is missing out?

So being the resourceful woman that I am I went in search of internet connectivity. I drove to the top of a nearby hill. Still SOS coverage only. Do you think 000 would understand that a blogger without internet is a genuine emergency?

I wandered around the town strategically holding my phone in assorted positions, skyward, to the left, to the right. Still no coverage.

Then I found it, an internet laundromat. Yes people you read that right an internet laundromat. Next to the washers and dryers were three computers. You popped in your coins and you were supposed to have access to all the bright lights and shiny toys the internet brings to your life.

The children, dealing with their own withdrawal issues, had come with me to this special place of detergent and data.

Our first challenge were the coins, only $1, $2, 10 cents and 20 cents. So our $3 of 50 cent pieces were useless. Scrounging up coins from the bottom of my handbag, the children returned to the car, desperately searching through consoles, at the back of the seats. Returning triumphant with a couple of gold coins.

I made my three dollar donation and watched as the clock ticked away my 15 minutes while I received error messages at every attempt to connect to the internet.

The children wisely pocketed the money they had found and began asking when we could go. Eventually entertaining themselves by waving and dancing in front of the security cameras.

Despite this latest setback, like a woman possessed, I began searching for another way. Right, connect your own device to their wifi hotspot. I obediently typed in my credit card details. Princess Child issuing warnings of scammers, black marketeers, and thousands of dollars racked up on your credit card. How does this child learn this stuff? I assure her we will be right, the credit card is never more than 50 bucks under it’s limit so the crooks will only have access to a load of debt.

Finally, success, we are connected to the internet. I’ve got an hour, write a blog post and send a critical email organising lunch with blogging mates as I pass through Sydney next weekend. Priorities.

Logging off we return to the void of a disconnected life. I’m beginning to realize how often I turn to the internet now I’ve got the iPhone and the iPad.

Who is the actress in this show? I’ll google it.
Is there snow in Thredbo? I’ll google it.
How much would snowboarding lessons be? I’ll google it.
What’s happening in the world? Let me check twitter.

We are resorting to the old fashioned days of searching our memory banks for the name of the actress, using the landline to ring Thredbo direct, and watching the news to find out what’s been happening. It’s a struggle.

Do you suffer withdrawals when you can’t “connect”?