The lost phone……or appendage

It’s been 5 whole days. I have searched every square inch of my house to no avail. It is lost, therefore I am lost.

To many, this might seem to be an overreaction, and to some (my husband included), punishment for putting so much faith in a small electronic product that will inevitably suffer some horrible fate. To me though, it is pure torture!

Maybe I do put a little to much stock in my iPhone, but honestly, the amount of time and space this thing saves me is worth it. Gone are the days when my handbag had enough room for a purse, a diary, a phone, a book, a packet of cigarrettes, numerous lighters I could never find, keys, lipstick, and all the other assorted garbage you may find in a single woman’s bag. These days, mine mostly contains keys, a purse, a spare nappy, some nappy wipes, dummies, and my iphone. It is my iphone that keeps everything else. I know exactly where I need to be, how I’m going to get there, the number of who I shall call if I can’t find it (not likely with my google maps!), and that’s just the simple stuff.

I, sadly have become a creature of the “I need it now!” society. I love the ability to find out anything I want with a little swipe and some thumb movements. I want to know what other movie that actor was in. I want to read my book. I don’t want to have to print photos, I want to snap them and share them instantly with the whole world! I want to check for my uni marks over and over until they are posted. I want, I want, I want!!!!

Not only do I feel like I’m stuck in some 1990s time zone where I have to use a computer, or worse the 1980s where I have to use a landline (gasp!), now I don’t even have anyone’s numbers. I stupidly do not keep an address book. My family seems lost to me, and my friends non-existent. And the big one – I can’t play Candy Crush! As the days go by, I feel a little less grief, but no less worried that I will fall off the edge of the universe. I admit, this feeling may too subside, but It’s not something I’m willing to experiment with.

With sadness, and not a small bit of shame, I put this era to bed and drag myself on to another day. The number has been blocked, the search has been abandoned. Tomorrow, I will just have to replace it. Before I go stark raving mad!



What’s the worst that can happen?

A stay at home mother of 3 1/2 children (1 is cooking), and a university student. Of course I have time to start a blog! Why not? What’s the worst that can happen?

Well, besides forgetting to pick up the kids from school, burning the dinner, overlooking assignment due dates, forgetting I have a husband, and quite possibly becoming slightly obsessive with being loved, I can’t see too much going wrong.

I love to write. Words seem to float around in my (temporarily baby-brained) mind, and settle themselves into little snippets that quite often leave me wondering “what on earth was that?”. On occasion though, these snippets are the beginnings of something longing for the freedom of the page. So I’m putting it here, for you to read. What’s the worst that can happen?