Friday, November 30: I call AT&T@Home customer support. Their online help page will not load and I am concerned about a possible disruption in service. A representative tells me that no, the recent bankruptcy of Excite@Home will not affect my service and I will not be disconnected from the Internet.

Saturday, December 1: I am disconnected from the Internet. Calling AT&T again, a recording informs that I will be without service for as much as a week, as they transition their customers to the new AT&T Broadband network. They apologize for the delay and promise to credit my account two full days for each day I am without a connection.

Sunday, December 2: Another recording, saying basically the same thing but cut off at the beginning, is left on my answering machine while I am out.

Monday, December 3: I spend the day at a tedious new employee orientation session, learning how to help customers (in this case, apparently, the University’s students) by more or less eliminating them from the equation. It is not fun.

Tuesday, December 4: Since I still have an Internet connection at work, I try AT&T’s online help page again. This time it loads. A notice informs me that customers in Pennsylvania should be transitioned to the new network by Thursday, December 6. I grumble a little but move on.

Thursday, December 6: I am still without an Internet connection at home. The transition has apparently not occurred.

Friday, December 7: I have dinner with my boss and co-workers to celebrate the holidays and wish a departing team member goodbye. It is a little late when I get home, and am I tired. I watch some television, fall asleep on the couch, and I am only a little annoyed that my cable modem is still not working.

Saturday, December 8: I call AT&T customer support. A recording tells me that the average wait for help is thirty minutes but that my call is important and will be transferred. When I am finally transferred, it is to another recording. This one tells me that the number I have dialed has changed. Except it hasn’t. The number this recording gives me is the number I originally dialed. They hang up. I try again. Eventually I am connected to a different recording: “If you are calling from a touchtone phone, press 1 now.” I do so and am connected to yet another recorded message. This one ecourages me to visit AT&T’s online help page if I still have questions about the transition to the new broadband network. Since the light on my cable modem is still blinking, and I am still unable to access the Internet, I stay on the line. I am asked to enter my ten-digit phone number if I am an existing AT&T customer. I do so, press 1 to confirm, and then I am told to press 2 if I am having trouble connecting to the Internet. The recording then tells me that I may be inadvertently disconnected from the system because of the increased call volume. I am again encouraged to visit the online help page if I can still connect to the Internet. The irony of this no longer amuses me. I spend a couple of hours on hold, listening to cheesy ’80s music and the occasional recorded message, losing at Solitaire while I wait, and giving up eventually. My time is better spent, I decide, by going to see Ocean’s Eleven in a downtown theater. I enjoy the movie immensely. I come home, order a pizza, and decide to call AT&T customer support again. I go through everything I went through in the morning, but eventually I am connected to a real person. She, too, asks for my ten-digit telephone number. She asks for my name. I am not connected to the Internet, I tell her, and it has been more than a week since the connection was severed. While I appreciate the situation that AT&T is in and understand the delay, I wonder if she has any information she might be able to share with me regarding my account. She has no information. I will be contacted when the transition occurs, she says. Oh, I say. Thanks. She thanks me for calling and I hang up.

Sunday, December 9: Because I need to check my e-mail and pick up a diskette I left there on Friday, I go in to the office. I check the AT&T online help page. It loads an error message. I try again. And again. And again. Eventually, the online customer support center loads. “As of December 6, 2001,” one message reads, “the markets below may be delayed in service transition. Customers in the specified markets who will be without service for more than a few days will receive a WorldNet CD and free WorldNet dial-up service until their service is transitioned. The WorldNet CDs should arrive around Friday, December 7, 2001.” State College, Pennsylvania, the market in which I happen to live, is scheduled for service transition on Thursday, December 14. The WorldNet CD has not arrived.