I love my phone. I do. So when it dropped, smashed, and broke the other night I instantly had a mini anxiety attack. What if I needed to get in touch with someone? What if someone needed to get in touch with me? What was I going to do? How was I going to do it…CALL them from my HOUSE phone? Like I’m an animal? And even if I wanted to I couldn’t because all my phone numbers are on my (broken) phone. I barely even know my sister’s number because I don’t need to know her number because I just need(ed) to tap a button on my (broken) phone and I would be instantly connected. Instantly. Without any thought at all. When I have my phone it does the thinking for me. It’s like my own little brain that I carry around in my hand all day. From morning to night.
Like when it’s time to wake up in the morning…who is there to play a nice little tune to rouse me from my slumber? My phone, that’s who. And it’s so nice to wake up to that. So I roll over, slide off the alarm, and give my phone a little snuggle. Then my day begins. Usually I’ll do a quick check of Facebook before I get out of bed because, really, who knows what could have happened between when I last checked it last night at 11pm and now at 5am. Anything could have happened. And would you look at that…something DID happen! It seems that someone couldn’t sleep so they posted looking for advice on falling asleep and staying asleep. By the looks of all the comments it seems that NO ONE could sleep last night. Interesting. Eh, while I’m just laying here I might as well Google “insomnia”. And “sleep habits”. And “lavender”. And “essential oils”. And “make your own soap using essential oils”. And, OMG, my phone is a portal to all the things.
All of them.
Including the weather. How on earth would I have any idea what to wear for the day if I couldn’t check my phone for the weather for the day. And then for the next day. And then for the week ahead. Am I just supposed to fling my body out the door and test the air? What if it is supposed to be cold but I’m wearing a tank top? What if it is supposed to be hot but I’m wearing a sweatshirt? What then? I can’t have that craziness in my life.
I bring my comrade with me when I go for my run. I snuggle it into a little baby bjorn on my arm and it plays music for me while I bop along. All the music that I love and have downloaded is right there for me. And if my kids hadn’t used up all my data by searching for Squirtle to add to their Pokedexes I could even listen to Pandora while I run. (But I can’t because one more gig of data overage and I’m going to have to remortgage my house.) THAT is how great my phone is. THAT is why I love it so much.
I could even look up recipes on my phone and then search for which stores have the ingredients on sale to make the recipes. I COULD. I don’t…but it’s good to know that were I to decide one day to cook a meal I just have to consult my little buddy and ta da!
My phone is my gateway to Pinterest. Enough said.
I love my phone. And my phone loves me. I don’t leave it home alone. I don’t leave it in a hot car. I treat it kindly. Until I give it to my 5-year-old and she drops it. And then…just…shit.
Luckily I know a guy. He’s fixed my phone about 5 times so far. He’s like an emergency room phone doctor and I trust him with my life. I mean, my phone. Well, it’s basically the same thing. He restores my life to normal.
**If you live in Walpole, here is his info: Yianni (774) 306-1909 (He’s at Jimmy’s Pizza. I’m serious.)
Put Your Booger In My Pocket 