Last week I dropped my phone. Face down. On a cement parking lot. The results of which created a very cracked phone screen. All four corners and most of the in-between as well – which, apparently, is very difficult to do. Luckily, the phone still functioned just as well as it always had. It’s just harder to see said functions actually happening.
So I thought I’d get it fixed. So I can actually see what my phone is doing while I’m doing it. But as it turns out, having your phone repaired also means it can’t be in your possession at the same time. Something about not having one’s cake and eating it, too.
Which means, since the repair-deciding incident, I’ve been phone-less. People can’t call me and I can’t call them. I haven’t played Soda Crush in days!
But as it turns out, life hasn’t been that bad. I can send and receive iMessages from my computer. I can even call and FaceTime fellow iPhone users from the same location. And for those who have yet to jump on the Apple bandwagon, there’s always the more ancient form of communication, Facebook messages. (Or you’re just punished by not getting to talk to me – that’s your call.) And most importantly, Snapchat can be checked from my old, still-synched phone. It might be slow, terrible at holding a charge, and cause thumb-sprains every time the home button needs pushed, but that’s still a far-better alternative than no Snapchat at all.
The Phone-less Era
Really, all not having a phone means is that I’m in control. There’s no buzzing text messages or ringings that beckon my attention. I’m not off any grid. I can talk when I want, to whom I want. And I even have a solid excuse about it. “Oh sorry I missed you, my phone’s in the shop.” “No I didn’t get that voicemail, Grandma, I swear.”
Seriously. It’s in two pieces with all the cords hanging out. I saw it and was terrified all the way through. After such a sight, it’s hard to believe that these things are able to function at all, let alone for years (ok, months) at a time while undergoing the highest levels of abuse.
Do I feel naked? (Which seems to be the most F of AQs, by the way.) Kind of. But in the way you feel after taking off a really uncomfortable outfit. Freeing, actually. Like you wished you would have been doing it most of the day. Then again, I’m not ready to walk outside without said outfit. It’s my crutch. And before long, I’ll be ready to hide back behind it. Like always.
Three days, plus or minus, and counting.