All of the cafés I frequent in Zagreb have some sort of wireless connection to the Internet. My laptop in my knapsack, I make my tour every single day. But there is a problem with the connection in of my favorite cafés. I struggled with it yesterday morning, and I could not get connected at all this morning. As I know the whole crew pretty well, I talked with the fellow who manages everything having to do with computers at that café. I bumped into him this afternoon quite by chance. Apparently, water got into the telephone distribution box they share with several other cafés in the neighborhood. Someone left it open by mistake, and there was much rain lately. “Anyhow,” he concluded his story with a big smile on his face, “everything is in perfect shape once again!” The telephone company has fixed the distribution box at last. “Great,” I smiled back with feeling, “I’ll be back tomorrow morning!” But I felt pretty miserable about my joy as we parted. The wireless connection to the Internet has become a dash too important to me in the last few years. Bit by bit, I have become an addict of information technology. Soon I will be as good as dead if not connected. The horror.