{Personal Files} Our digital compulsory deceleration. Or: exchange the Internet for cheese bread.

"J a." - "Yes." - "No." - "No." - - - "Neiiiiiiiin." - "NO!" The man is sitting at the desk holding this Phone in hand. The other is clenched in a fist on the desk. And if I did not know better, I'd say his hair looks somehow stubborn. I stand unnoticed with two steaming coffee cups in his office door. The clenched fist whizzes on the desk top. Oomph! "Employee!" - "EMPLOYEE !!!" The man now roars into the cell phone. Then he throws things cursing in the corner (thank God it lands on something soft unintentionally) and jumps up. "Damn !!!" Below are a few interesting additions, which I better save the reader at this point. He looks at me.

I'm making a few encouraging little moves with my two full coffee cups in my hands and I'm going into the living room. He'll come after when he's ready.

We came back from vacation a few days ago. And had the wonderful situation, not immediately to have to jump back into the jobs completely. Together with the child we have the last holidays with swimming pool, movies and accommodation visit from Berlin petted. One last little shared time buffer before everything would go back to its regular and timed pace ... Jobs, school, sports training - the usual. We managed to do that almost without a guilty conscience, because we knew: On Wednesday we will be back in business again, many tasks are waiting for us.

The internet was gone punctually on Wednesday morning.

For two people who earn their bread almost 100% on digital topics, that's a bit of a twitch. But basically not a huge problem. Something happens for a short time. In the afternoon the internet was still gone. And it also did not want to adjust again in the evening. Of course, the most skilled man of all immediately initiated the necessary measures of self-diagnosis. But there was simply no signal from the line. Zero. Nada. Nothing. The Internet was gone.

So the hotline of the provider. Once. Two times. 3 times. Computers that do not understand. Staff with the usual objection script. Instructions to unscrew and screw on boxes again. Spongy consolations. Service tickets rummaging through a line in Berlin (or on the moon) unprocessed. And then sometime the fist of the man on the table. After five days: no internet.

The internet is gone - but the universe has unexpectedly given us more time as a couple. By concentrating on the most important and absolutely necessary things via cell phone hotspot, time windows have opened up, which we are amazed and delighted to use: Mornings relaxed at the hardware store, lunch together, a short walk in the park, a trip to the spirits specialist dealer in the ski jump and Immediately afterwards, to the Spanish wholesaler, one street further. And then hang out on the couch together in the evening. Long live the forced deceleration!

And that's exactly what the man with acute hotline frustration can now use an extra dose. The coffee is now cold. I wiggle into the kitchen and make some fat cheese. With the good cheese. The bottle of red wine and two glasses have to go too. The couch quickly gets two extra cushions missed and the old DVD with the log fire for the TV is found in less than eight minutes from any crunch-box. YAY! The remote control for the player has to be somewhere ...? - Two minutes later it crackles and cracks cozy in the living room.

The man turns the corner. "They are so stupid !!!" I squeeze in the largest cheese box in the world and a glass of red wine in the hand , "I know," I say.The fire is blazing.

The internet is coming back. Eventually.