Unlike any human that I know, my phone is with me twenty four, seven. It is the first thing I seek out every morning. It has seen me experience every emotion, heard all my secrets and knows whom I stalk on social media. It is a source of entertainment on long journeys by car or plane and also the wee hours of the morning during a bout of insomnia. It is my connection with friends and acquaintances world wide, many of whom have been by my side constantly in the last year. Much as I love my iPad, the phone is smaller and therefore it gets to come places!
Years ago I realised I needed a ring tone which I could pick out easily. The FYD ( favourite younger daughter) warned me not to embarrass her and to choose something suitable. Thus challenged I chose the song most likely to embarrass them both - Achy Breaky Heart by Billy Ray Cyrus; Miley's Daddy!
Over the years countless numbers of students would yell " Miss your phone is ringing" and then barn dance around the classroom. Billy sang out once or twice during a staff meeting when I had forgotten to silence him. He even sang out during a conference, my daughters graduation mass and the Yr 10 parent information night. Oops!!! Can't remember everything but will never forget my daughters face as she realised from her privileged spot on the stage, that it was indeed HER mother's phone going off during the most solemn part of the ceremony. Priceless!
My phone has all my contacts including my billion doctors. Ok slight exaggeration but I bet I have more doctors on my contact list than most of you, including their private numbers if they are silly enough to ring me from them. I have addresses that remind me that people live at 72 not 74. I also have some passwords suitably encrypted so only my brain can decipher them. In short everything that makes my life tick is on my phone.
I started my blog on my phone...and sometimes still use it for this purpose.
I shop on it.
I do my banking.
My phone is my lifeline to the outside world.
Which is why when the nice girl at Telstra told me my phone had to go away to be fixed, my hands started to shake and I felt the beginnings of a sweat form on my brow. The nice girl told me she felt my pain and I truly believe her, such was the distress in her voice.
" How long for", I asked quietly.
" A few weeks" she replied.
We made eye contact.
I know she felt my pain.
My phone was handed over and as I bid it au revoir the nice girl handed me a temporary phone. Hmm black, cheap model with keypad too small for my chunky fingers...we meet again. Yes, this has happened before.
Today is day 2 of borrow phone. When it rings I keep thinking there's an icecream van outside my door till I realise too late it's the unfamiliar ring tone. (Come back Billy Ray!!! ). Also, I keep losing it. What idiot designer has not realised that a black phone in a black bag quite literally disappears amidst all the rubbish that lies around it.
But the worst bit is that I have no relationship with this phone. We haven't searched for clues together. We haven't shared secrets and we have no stories to tell. Like all doomed relationships, it does one thing and I do another. It knows our time together is short and it doesn't care.
Dear Telstra, please fix my phone and give it whatever it needs to be happy again...and make it snappy please. Life is too short to spend with cheap imitations.
Till next time...xxx
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