ON HOLD FOR 1.5 HOURS **UPDATE 4 - OVER 3.5 HOURS: SOS*

I'm having some issues with my account and I call to speak with someone about it, and I've now been on hold for over an hour and a half.  This is insane and the worse customer service I've ever experienced.  

**Update 1 - Over 2 Hours**

Two hours in and I can start to feel insanity creeping in.  I stare outside of my office window watching all the being below carry on with their everyday life.  Laughing. Crying. Smiling. Dancing  The window is seperating me from the life below. It all seems surreal. 

I remove my head set to get a feel for the silence.  Even with my headset removed, my brain is still filled of monotonous AT&T ads.  "Technology doesn't wait, why should you?" "Make sure you ask your AT&T representative" These phrases echo in my head, teasing me. Will I make it out alive? Only time will tell.  

 **Update 2 - Over 2.5 Hours**

Technology is failing me. Half an hour later and my phone is strating to die.  The "20% remaining" notificaton rings in my ear.  I'm haunted by visions and images of this dystopian future.  A future, opposite that of what most dystopian stories will tell us.  A future of darkness. Of cold.  A future without technology.  

"18% remaining." 

I fear that my persistence will not pay off.  

"17% remaining"

**Update 3 - Over 3 Hours**

Fatique and hunger are starting to set in.  It's been so many hours since I've last been fed, I fear my body won't hold up.  I spot a bag of goldfish lying in the corner. I fall off my chair as I dive across my office floor reaching for it.  Only a mirage of a deep desire. 

I'm doing my best to conserve my strength, but it's just a time game now.  I know I won't hold on for much longer. 

**Update 4 - Over 3.5 Hours**

I Yell.  

No one answers. 

I scream for help.  Hoping with all my being that someone will answer. 

Black.

Total darkness. 

I wake up and find myself curled in the corner where I thought I saw the goldfish.  "How long have I been here?" I think to myself.  The AT&T jingle and the woman making the announcements drone in my ear.  My office is shrinking around me.  The walls shake as they move closer to the corner where I reside.  

"8%"

The lights flicker or is it my eyes blinking.  

I roll over and stare out the window.  I miss the smell of fresh air.  The smell of freedom.  

But I'm locked in my cage.  Constrained to live in this inferno by my slowly perishing phone. 

"You're call is important, and we'll be with you shortly".  I can only pray.