I woke up late this morning, because, well, screw you Monday. I rushed to get out the door to try to make it to the office on time (unnecessary side note, I didn't, but only missed by about 15 minutes of my normal time). When I went to gather my things out of my car, I noticed one pocket was empty. I'd forgotten my phone at home.
I don't know about most of you, but I knew I was dependent upon my phone. What I'm slowly finding out, as my brain turns to mush, is just how much I depend on my phone. I'm not even talking about using apps, checking email, texting, calling, having all the phone numbers I need stored, and on and on. I'm talking about socially and personally.
After I got my coffee, it was time to do what coffee makes you do. I sit down on the toilet, and suddenly, there's an emptiness in my life. What am I going to do for the next two to ten minutes? Read a magazine? Ugh. You have to turn pages and stuff. Plus, it's an office. The magazine selection is about as entertaining as a coworker's story about how his kids did the most adorable thing last night, or for us non-parents, the same story you've heard from every parent you know. So without my phone in hand, and without having Hill Climb to help me pass the time, I just sat there awkwardly and used the facilities like our ancestors did. Necessary side note, Hill Climb is still my favorite phone app game ever. It's simple enough to just pick up and play, but you can do enough things to have mindless entertainment for hours of pooping.
The rest of morning went ok because I was super busy at work and didn't have time to be on my phone anyway. However, then lunch hit. I had to go to the bank and to a restaurant that claims to let you eat fresh. These would have been uneventful, except I had to stand in line at both places. People suck now! I understand why old people gripe about these youngsters ruining the world with their little computers and junk. I'm standing in line at the bank trying to pass 5 minutes, and I turned to talk to the guy standing beside me, head down, playing on his phone. The girl behind me? Same deal. I look and if you aren't standing at the counter, you are on your phone. Subway was a little more personable. There was a guy to talk to. He was about 50 years old and he was willing to talk to me to pass ten minutes. Then ten minutes worth of the one singular topic he was willing to talk about. His support of that intolerable hairpiece running for president.
As soon as the phrase, "Let me tell you, that Obama," pronounced like Alabama, "is about through. I can't wait for him to leave office. He's ruint," as if that's an actual word, " this great country. Wait for Trump to take over. Maybe then the boys from the south can rise again and fix what's wrong with this country."
I've never wanted to have my cell phone with me so much in my life. Just for your information, my response was, "How many holes do you have in your pillow case?" He didn't get it and said he had some nice new ones from the Wal-marts.
Moral of the story, forget your phone at home, and you'll weep about humanity.