I spent about two hours last night trying to get online before I gave up, went upstairs and curled up into a ball of nothing-is-going-right. (The earlier part of the day had included wrangling with my prescription plan over whether it would pay for some medication. Still haven't sorted out that one.)
The two hours included roughly an hour and a half of telephone time, the bulk of that on hold. There is something so delightful about -- after running through a series of automated-phone steps that haven't helped -- being on hold, finally getting a human, discussing the problem for a few minutes before being told you'll be connected to another technician for more help, spending another 30 minutes on hold, then getting a human who has no apparent knowledge of your earlier conversation.
Anyway, after an extended conversation and a couple of more pauses on hold, the tech suggested that it was a fairly simple problem. Which I got half-fixed last night, though not enough to keep me from curling up. And the other half fixed itself overnight. And I feel a sense of relief far too vast for a reasonable person -- but just about right for someone with an unreasonable attachment to the Internet and this blog.