I have declared war on my workplace. Not my lab, per se, but its confines. Some would say I work in a very good hospital, perhaps the best in the great state of Illinois, even. A few would even go so far to say it’s among the top hospitals in the country. (I fear my anonymity is slowly withering with each sentence I write, but whatever.)

Yet, I am stuck in its bowels. I am trapped in antiquity. This morning, after heating up some gel in some futuristic device called a “microwave,” I used my trusty slide rule to calculate how long it’s been since I’ve had reliable wireless internet in the lab. The answer: never had it. So much for the slide rule.

Wireless internet. What do I need to do to get some wireless-fricking-internet here at Very Good Hospital?

So, I have declared war. Over the past few weeks, I have submitted their stupid “wireless access suggestion form” and I have played their games. I have called them. I even bought a wireless router a few months ago to install myself; of course, they don’t support its installation. Today, in revisiting the idea of using it, I was told that if I were to successfully install it, the whole port would be shut down were it to be detected, making my entire room internet-less, wired or otherwise.

During the same phone call, it was suggested, yet again, that I submit the “wireless access suggestion form.” “I have done that several times and haven’t heard back from anyone, ever,” I said. Next up in their rote algorithm of responses to angry callers was a suggestion to email the support office.

This was an hour ago. I’ve emailed them five times. It would have been twenty, but my internet was down for about 40 minutes.