(Saturday, 8 a.m.) What a great idea for a column! According to Reuters, Jyrki Kivela is a commander at a military conscription unit in Finland, where all men must serve at least six months in the military. He reports that several men have been discharged shortly after enlisting because they had previously become "addicted" to the Internet and longed for their computers. "For people who play (Internet) games all night and don’t have any friends, don’t have any hobbies, to come into the army is a very big shock," Kivela noted. Apparently, friendliness is a prerequisite for warlike, hostile behavior. Can you imagine that? Being so hopelessly addicted to the Internet that you can’t even serve your country? Someone should tell those young men to get a life. (Saturday, 9:35 a.m.) Something, probably one of the hurricanes down south, is interfering with the computer’s satellite reception in our home. This would really send some of those young Finns into a tizzy, wouldn’t it? At least we can laugh about it. (Ten minutes later) Still no signal. The computer is working, but the Internet isn’t. No e-mail either. Maybe this is a good thing. What a perfect excuse to take some time off, enjoy a beautiful, sunny September day and write some overdue notes on that gift stationery from last Christmas. A day like this is a perfect time to stop and smell the roses. (Saturday, 10:05 a.m.) The note-writing isn’t going very well although one envelope is addressed and ready for mailing. It’s so slow! Still no satellite signal. The sky is partly cloudy now, but it doesn’t seem to bother the pair of squirrels playfully scampering on the lawn. What a delight they are! (Fifteen minutes later) Halfway through with a note to my sister. The squirrels stopped scampering and are now digging through two planters of petunias on the deck. The sky is completely overcast and it looks like rain. What happens to e-mail when it’s not promptly delivered? Is it held someplace for safekeeping until a computer is working again? I must admit that I miss reading, "You have mail!" (10:30 a.m.) The flower planters outside look miserable. Broken petunia stems are scattered all around them. I keep checking the Internet and the e-mail. Zilch. Nada. What if there’s an emergency out there and someone is trying to reach us? The sky is looking darker and it definitely is going to rain. What a disgusting day. (10:55 a.m.) Bad thought. It suddenly occurs to me that I read someplace that pink and black are hot colors for this fall, and there is nothing pink in my closet! With the Internet down, ordering something to wear is impossible! Still no e-mail. Are our children trying to reach us? How popular will pink be? (11:30 a.m.) How long must I sit here, waiting for the Internet and e-mail? This is ridiculous. What’s more, someone has just asked what we’re having for lunch. What part of crisis don’t they understand? The entire world is falling apart and they’re worried about food! (1:10 p.m.) This is maddening! I need to hear from news services, friends, anyone! I need to look up interesting facts on the Internet and there are countless things that need to be ordered! One thing is certain — I’m not leaving this computer until the e-mail comes through and things are back to normal. Will this rain never stop? I won’t be able to think about Finnish soldiers and whatever their problem is until this computer is connected to the rest of the world. And, no, I don’t need a cup of coffee to steady my nerves, thank you very much!