Approximately 96 hours ago a stranger adopted my Blackberry... I was having a spur of the moment post-work glass of vino with one of my favourite blondes in the Wild Wild West – what an expensive glass of sauvignon blanc that turned out to be.
I hadn't realised quite how smart my smart phone was until I was involuntarily stripped of it. For the past few days I have been finding creative ways to get hold of people, typing rather odd 'out of office' automated responses for my email account and relying on Ellie's morning wake-up (a.k.a 'I need to pee!') to stand in as an alarm clock. It gets worse...
Ask me what I'm doing next week Thursday and, unless I'm at my laptop, I can't tell you. Gone are the days of filofaxes and literally penciling things in. I have gone from being 'lost' 20% of the time to being 'lost' 80% of the time. Having SatNav at my fingertips hasn't made me a better navigator, it's made me more directionally challenged than ever. At least when I got lost, map book on my lap, I actually had to pay attention to things like street names.
Using a standard issue, 'does what it says on the tin', phone is like being told that you have to have a black filter coffee when your post-run body is begging for a skinny, decaf, hazelnut latte with a sprinkle of nature's finest cinnamon. Being blackberry-less has only further hammered home the point – I am a 'bells and whistles' girl... and I feel like somebody put me on 'silent'.
Luckily, I had the good sense to tick the 'Yes, I'd like insurance' five years ago when I got my first post-UK cellphone contract. I am happy to report that after paying a visit to the police station (twice), Vodashop (twice) and Vodacare (one particularly pleasant experience) I have managed to track down an IMEI number, a case number, an insurance code and have gotten my PhD in 'your call has been placed on hold'.
I should be back in black within 48 hours. And that, my friends, gets me almost as excited as a 50% off sale at Marion & Lindie.
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