Saturday, October 10, 2009
People don't really believe me when I say my phone is in a million pieces. And that may be a bit of an exaggeration, but, it turns out when your phone is run over by at least 3 cars and an Associated bus, it's never going to work again. In addition, it exudes a crazy chemical smell that is probably really bad for both people and the environment.
It's very strange not having a phone. I realize how present it is in my mind. At work it sits right by my keyboard. After I work out, the first thing I do is check my phone. When I leave my house, it's always with me, and if it isn't I feel a little lost. Sometimes I pull it out to see if I missed an 'event', just in case. It tells me the time or if I'm late. It's rather comforting really.
Now, maybe I should take this time to mention that no one calls me. And never does anyone text me. Not that I don't have any friends, but all my friends email me. I get invited to things via email or facebook. I communicate with people through email. I chat via email. I occasionally firm up plans on the phone. And there are a couple out of town folk I touch base with every week or so, but all those times I'm checking my phone there is rarely anything there. And when there is, it's usually moveon.org emailing my gmail account asking me to 'take action'. (My gmail account is the one no one uses and the only one my phone will accept.) Never ever does anything interesting happen on my phone while I'm at work. Okay, well maybe every once in a blue moon. But maybe once in a blue moon is enough. There are probably some psychological experiments that show that if just ever so rarely we are rewarded for constantly checking out messages/texts/emails, we will continue to check them regularly. And worry when we can't!!
The other strange thing about not having my phone, is that all my contacts are gone. Back in the day, I knew every one's phone numbers. But now that I have a cell phone. I know nothing. At this moment, I can call my mom and one friend. Those are the only current numbers my little brain has memorized. That is, the only numbers I care about. I could call all kinds of people at work (no programs for those numbers). I could call the house I grew up in (329-0824 or maybe I should say EA9-0824 -that's how we rolled back in the day). But if anyone has that number it's not my old house. I could call my friend Jen from back in the day (329-1315). But again, that would do me no good - she's in LA. And I think the days of directory assistance are gone. Now that everyone has a cell phone, the only way for me to get someones number is for them to give it to me.
Now that the initial shock/panic has dissipated a bit, it is a bit freeing. But, Monday, when my newly refurbished blackberry arrives in the mail. I will be jumping right back on the bandwagon. Salivating like a regular Pavlovian dog!