I hate being wrong.
Thank God it doesn't happen often.
As you can tell by the fact that I'm typing this, I got my Internet service up and running. Problem is, it was my fault. After all the yelling and abuse I hurled at my ISP, it wasn't their problem after all. There was something wrong with my computer, and it wasn't until I had a chat with Bish that I realized a potential solution to the problem. (I'll give you props on this one Bish; the fake, non-existent cheque is in the mail.)
I wasn't able to tackle it right away, but I did fix it this morning.
Now, because of the kind of guy I am, I phoned my ISP and told them I had rectified the problem. Then I proceeded to apologize for being a dick yesterday on the phone with them. Once I realized that they weren't at fault, I felt like an ass.
I made sure that my apologies got to the right people, but it still left a sour taste in my mouth.
I'll be spitting out feathers for a week.
Later.
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