I went home and settled myself into smug intellectual pursuits. Namely: A Song of Ice and Fire. Which is great though actually not that intellectual at all but if I stacked all the volumes up next to me they’d be taller than me so there’s this false inherit gravity that makes me feel better about it than spending a bunch of time reading Twilight.
I am SO taller than Twilight.
Clearly that means I’m a Very Important Person who should be Reachable at All Times lest Important Things happen. And now suddenly this is all in jeopardy because I realize I CAN’T FIND MY PHONE.
Now I’m home alone. No one is home to call me on my phone so I can find my phone. In case you’re unclear on this: I CAN’T FIND MY PHONE. This is surprising and HORRIFYING.
And frustratingly like that thing where you’re looking for your glasses but you can’t find your glasses because you need glasses to see stuff.
I feel panicky but then I’m like, “You know what, me? This is an “:::eye roll:: Whatever.” situation because, seriously why is this a big deal? There’s a song called “Payphone” out right now. And no one born after 1992 knows what that means. And it irritates you. So. You know. Walk the walk. Payphone it for a couple of hours.”
BUT WHAT IF SOMETHING IMPORTANT HAPPENS?
Like that last email you got confirming that meeting two weeks from now? Or the other email about how someone commented on the interwebs? Or your boss has an idea? Or your friend met a dude who seems nice? Or how Amazon now delivers yet more shit you don’t need? Or the bank made a payment it’s confirmed 5 other times? Or *gasp* SOMEONE MENTIONED YOU ON FACEBOOK OR TWITTER?
OMFG WHAT IF THERE’S NO REAL TIME RESPONSE?!
It would matter if the President didn’t answer the red phone at 3a. It would really matter if a fire fighter didn’t know they had to put out a fire. But you? No. You know where your loved ones are and you’re within a stone’s throw of 37 kinds of people who could call 911 if warranted. Plus you’ve got a laptop. A car. Legs. A brain. You’re good. Even zombie apocalypse wise.
Losing your phone isn’t really a thing.
Except for that it is. WHAT IF SOMEONE DIES?
A) No one you know is currently on their death bed. (Thank God).
B) Knowing 5 seconds after death happens and knowing 5 hours after changes nothing. I totally turned off my phone when AMC Theatres told me to during “The Avengers” and then left it off because I was really tired and forgot. And that worked out okay. So this is like “Avenger” grade phone stoppage. Not a big deal.
And yet. AND YET.
OMG. I DON’T HAVE MY PHONE.
It has to be here somewhere, right? I mean, I know I brought it home and there’s only so many square feet I live in. OK.
I check the fridge. I have no idea why I’d check there but I do. I check the deck. I check the toilet. I check and check and check.
WHAT IF THERE’S BEEN A HORRIBLE ACCIDENT? Because that’s what phone loss means: horrible accidents to loved ones who expect you to retroactively prevent such accidents by not losing your phone.
And then the cat yawns. I’ve apparently interrupted her 17 hours of “me” time. She waddles off. And all of a sudden I hear it. And then see it.
That’s sign #2 you need to put your cat on a diet: She can muffle your phone’s ringer. (Sign #1, obviously, is looking at your cat and then weighing her).
NOW I can get Yidio updates to tell me what was on TV that I already knew was on TV! Now I don’t have to wait until I’m home to see if a check’s cleared! Now I can see that the super irritating hard to schedule meeting is still super-irritatingly hard to schedule! Now I can verify the pumpkin patch will be open during the exact same time frame it was last year! Now the world can continue doing its worldly stuff because I can follow it in real time on beta apps!
OH THANK GOD!
This is all kind of silly, right? I realize that.
Also I’m putting the cat on a diet on Monday. Because it’s messed up that a cat nap can render me phoneless. WHAT IF THE WORLD EXPLODES NEXT TIME I’M PHONELESS AND IT’S ALL MY FAULT?!