I’ve lost my mobile phone. I had it with me in the car on Saturday, and then I got Hazel out of her seat and came upstairs, and I haven’t seen it again since. It was on silent (my phone’s always on silent), so we’ve listened out for its vibrating in every room of our place as well as in the car. And we’ve looked out for its flashing screen while calling it at night time, in the apartment and down along the street. I wondered aloud whether someone had taken it, and Alan replied, “Why would anyone want your phone? It’s an old Nokia!” He didn’t even say “No offense.” I didn’t used to be the type of person who lost things, but since Hazel’s birth I’ve lost my wallet and now my phone. I was calling this “baby brain” but now I worry that it’s just “brain.”
Finding myself phone-less has left me feeling less bereft than I’d imagined it would. The recluse in me likes the idea of being somewhat cut off from the rest of the world, no longer at the beck and call of whoever’s on the other end of my phone’s buzzes. And I like not knowing the time when I’m out. I also like not having something else I could be doing on top of the thing I’m currently doing. If I was walking to the doctor with my phone, for example, I could read my emails, or call someone, or send that text I’d been meaning to send all week; without it, I just walk. It’s quite peaceful.
It’s also really annoying. I have no idea how people ever met up with other people before mobile phones were a thing. And I broke my tooth on the weekend and still haven’t called a dentist because I only have access to a phone when Alan’s home, and Alan’s not home during business hours (it’s possible I could have found a way around this if I really wanted to go to the dentist, but who really wants to go to the dentist? I can wait. I’m in no pain. Yet).
If my phone doesn’t show up over the next few days, I’ll have to start thinking about replacing it. I’m pretty sure I’ll get another old Nokia; I can’t think of any features I’d need that a trusty old Nokia doesn’t have. Plus, it will take very little getting used to, whereas trying to send a message on Alan’s phone still makes me want to throw it. Also, every time I go to buy a non-smart phone there are far fewer options than the last time I checked; next time I may not have a choice.