About That No Internet Thing…

On one of our many trips to the library this past month, I picked up a book called Sway: The Irresistible Pull of Irrational Behavior. I thought it might help me to better understand why seemingly normal people do some truly ridiculous things. Go ahead, say it, we’re all thinking it. Yes, I got the book to help me better understand why we do some truly ridiculous things.

You see, over the past few months, we’ve done a lot of random things in the name of minimalism and frugality. We went all winter without turning on our heat. We got rid of our microwave. We sold some of our once-favorite toys (like our bowling shoes and snorkel vests) on eBay. And in case you hadn’t yet heard, we cut our home internet service…to save money. In fact, you could make a case that all these things have been done in the name of saving money. And here I thought we were supposed to be in a time-out with the green stuff?? Well, let me just tell you this…not thinking about money is about as difficult as living without the internet…and that, my friends, is pretty darn difficult!

The truth is, cutting home internet has been one of the hardest things we’ve ever done. At this point, I fully acknowledge that this is only a dilemma in a first-world, middle-class setting and that there are far worse things than living without internet – like living without access to food or water – but this is where we are, and privilege acknowledged, I want to talk about the realities of making this [quite possibly irrational] decision. Here’s a breakdown of our actual breakdown:

Day 1 – started with equal parts fear and excitement. We were entering a new challenge and we had a brilliant plan.

Day 2 – we realized that we should have upgraded our cell phone plan the month prior to cancelling our home internet, rather than the month of. We learned that it would be a full 20 days before our unlimited plan with 12 GB of hotspot per line would kick in. In the meantime, we were operating on 3 GB of total data allocation, for both the hotspot and phone. We also learned, while trying to print a med list for my mom’s doctor, that our wireless printer would not print documents via the USB or SD card options, only photos.

Day 3 – was actually a good day. It was Wednesday and I was off so there was no need for the internet. We even went to the library to check out a few videos to watch in our free time. Note that at this point, we still thought we might actually have more free time.

Day 4 – we realized once again that our “brilliant” plan was next to useless. I had zero data for the hotspot and could only connect to a very slow 3G network to check my work email. I was completely unable to connect to the VPN or the server at work to access any of my files. Later, at the library, Angie got online but I could not.

Day 5 though 20 were pretty much the same as Day 4. I tried connecting to every internet source under the sun and would end up working from Panera, Chick-Fil-A or the Walmart parking lot. Unwinding late in the evening took on a whole new meaning to. Where we once tuned into Netflix or YouTube to watch an episode of Gray’s Anatomy or a tiny house/alternative living video, we were stuck with TV show reruns or videos from the library that we probably never would have chosen to watch on a streaming service (like Wild Life Adventures with Billy Ray Cyrus circa 2004). We did opt for the Netflix DVD program and quickly found ourselves running to the mailbox like a cat to catnip.

Day 21 – our cell phone plan was upgraded, and the world was right again. Sure, that’s exactly what happened (no it wasn’t). Connecting my computer to the hotspot worked without any problems but I still couldn’t connect to the server and the screen mirroring trick we had hoped to use to connect our phones to the TV did not work at all. We were back to square one with entertainment, so we purchased a digital PVR from Walmart ($38) to record shows through our antenna onto a USB drive. After two full days of trial and error, we finally recorded something correctly.

Day 22 – after an hour of trying unsuccessfully to connect to the internet at the library, I started to cry and question my sanity. Why on Earth are we doing this?, I asked between sniffles. As we sat in the car, talking things out, we struggled to find a reason for our decision or even a goal for the savings we were supposed to be enjoying. But, at the end of my meltdown, we decided we were still committed to having no internet. We concluded that what we really needed was to anchor this challenge with a concrete goal in order to motivate ourselves to see it through. This is called commitment bias by the way, but more on that later.

Day 23 and 24 were just as stressful but we tried to manage the stress by coming up with a goal. Should we put the savings toward a vacation? Should we add to our retirement fund? Should we buy a van and live out the remainder of our time in TN in the parking lot at Walmart to have better access to the internet? Or should we just order the salmon? Nothing sparked, except our tempers, and our usually fun strolls in the park turned into silent power walks.

Day 25 – I spent the morning in standstill traffic, trying to take my mom to an appointment in Nashville, only to be almost an hour late. When the doctor came back with news we did not want to hear – surgery was the only option left for her situation – we were both disheartened. I returned home, tired, to find that my boss had a last-minute project that needed to be done that day. Last minute, when you have no internet, takes on a whole new meaning. All I wanted to do was rest and decompress and what I had to do was go to the library.

Day 26 – instead of figuring out where to go for internet, Angie and I decided to take a vote. On the count of 3, we would raise our hand if we wanted to re-install the internet. The vote was unanimous.

Our $50/month AT&T internet service started exactly 1 month to the day of our disconnect from Comcast. I don’t think we’ve ever felt so relieved.

Now back to the topic of commitment bias, which is simply the tendency to remain consistent with what we have already done or said we will do in the past, particularly if it was said or done in public. I thought long and hard about remaining committed to no internet. After all, I had just written a post on the benefits of cutting the internet cord. To quit now would be embarrassing. No one would listen to us in the future. Everyone would label us as quitters. Then I decided, embarrassment wasn’t a good enough reason to continue doing something that was making us unhappy.

I’m big enough to admit defeat but can’t say that I think this was a complete failure. Cutting the internet for a month helped us to truly see the value of the service in our lives. Talking about it was not a mistake either. I believe it’s important to share the good and the bad, the highs and the lows, in any adventure or challenge, so that anyone considering doing the same can make the most informed decision possible. Cutting our internet service taught us three great lessons:

  • Without a goal, giving up something you enjoy (and often need) can be extremely difficult, especially when you run into roadblocks. If we were saving for a home or an actual planned vacation, it might have been easier to make the sacrifice each day because we would’ve seen the savings adding up to something. As it is, we’re fortunate to be in a position in our life where we’re already diligently saving for our future and for fun, so the sacrifice didn’t put us any further ahead than we already were. And on top of that, we spent any savings we might have seen on gadgets to make the transition easier (like the PVR) or food/beverages to ease the “guilt” of just sitting in a restaurant to use their free wi-fi.
  • Don’t let emotions factor into your decision. Before this, we always solved the “too expensive” dilemma by finding a cheaper alternative. It was kind of our thing. Friends and family always turned to us to get the scoop on ways to save money. We were never the folks who cut off their nose to spite their face. We could always find a better way to do something. But with this, we let anger and pride get the best of us and we made a radical decision based on those emotions.
  • Life is hard enough as it is without intentionally making it harder. We came to TN to help care for my mom. In any given week, we may run to the grocery store, pharmacy, doctor’s office, post office, etc. a half-dozen times, between keeping up a half-acre yard and helping with house chores. It’s hard to find time for ourselves sometimes. I have no idea how I ever thought I’d have time to sit in a library or coffee shop to work. The best I can offer is that I liked the romantic idea of it all. There’s something kind of dreamy about writing in a coffee shop. But there’s nothing dreamy about sitting in Walmart’s parking lot at 8 PM on a Sunday night trying to make sure you have what you need to work the next day.

So where do we go from here? Well, for now, we’re going to chill a little on the money saving challenges and get back to doing something less dramatic with our life – like working in the garden or going for a hike.

Happy to Live in the Present

I had hoped to give an update on our first 30 days of life without the internet today but that life is proving to be fraught with many an [unforeseen] obstacle and that post is going to need a bit of revision. In the meantime, I combed back through my archives and found this tidbit instead. I thought I could use the reminder that though we can’t change the past, we can change our mind.


We all know someone who is backwards focused, always looking into the past and presuming how their life (or yours) would have been vastly different…if only. If only they had married Bob instead of Bill. If only they had finished that degree. If only they had selected a different career path. If only…

A few days ago I was chatting with someone who knew me when I was in college. “You should have just gone into journalism,” she said. “You write for a living anyway.” Perhaps it was a harmless observation, but knowing my friend, I knew she thought I could have “done better” with my life. This is, by the way, the same person who once asked me why anyone would bother to write a book if it wasn’t going to be a bestseller.

When I studied journalism 25 years ago, the word “blog” hadn’t even been coined. As I learned the fundamentals of newspaper reporting, I became keenly aware that I had little interest in journalism as a career path. I loved research and the art of crafting a good story. I did not love the ins and outs of the newspaper business. So I changed majors.

Like 49% of American college graduates, I don’t even work in my field of study (which ended up being business, by the way). I do write for a living. I write grants for non-profits. I also write in my journal and on this blog, and sometimes I even write short stories – despite the fact that they will never be bestsellers. I didn’t need to become a journalist to write. I didn’t need to become anything. I was already a writer from the moment I picked up a pen and told myself I was.

Backwards focused people nearly always think the grass is greener on the path not taken. Though a million thoughts crossed my mind that day, I knew it was an unwinnable argument so I opted to steer my friend to a different topic. She will always see my life as one of missed opportunities. But I’m not so certain that I’m the one who missed out.

Everybody knows how sweet it is to savor life’s simplest moments when we pause to take it all in: watching the sunset; taking a walk with a friend; or having a hot cup of tea on a winter’s day. Far too often, however, we’re pulled away from the present to fixate on the past, or worry about the future. When this happens, we’re not able to fully experience the richness, and subsequent happiness, that is often right under our noses. ~ Kim Pratt, LCSW

In my daily life, I try to remember to be mindful. I can’t do that by dwelling in the past. No choice that could have been made in the past will ever compare to the one that can be made right now; to be present and grateful for this very moment.