I lost my phone. I lost it between a parked car and a first floor flat.
After months of managing to hold onto it, despite being in some states, I dropped it in the street whilst totally* sober and didn’t notice until a few hours later that it was gone. In that time someone had obviously picked it up and carried it off – I phoned it until it was turned off…and I knew it was lost forever.
There are worst things in this world to happen to you than losing your phone, so I’ve tried to keep it in perspective.
I’ve gone cold turkey because I don’t even have a spare to use until I get a new one. It’s been hard. I honestly wonder how people managed to stand being alive before mobile phones were invented/widely used.
When I leave the house I become totally unreachable. I know some people might think that could be a good thing; that I might find some sense of inner peace that’s been lost by being contactable at all times.
But that is horseshit, seriously. Why some people get nostalgic for a time when we didn’t all have mobile phones is beyond me- I don’t trust these people.
I had a phone lock, a sim card lock AND a memory card lock and I sincerely hope that’s enough to stop whoever found my phone from raiding through it.
Between the endless pictures I’ve taken of my own face, to the conversations I’ve had with a few of my friends…Well, I’m not going to be coming off very well put it that way.
I’m just not going to think about it.
I’m sure it’s amazing how much our phones might actually say about us. My phone was almost an extension of my brain. It had so much of me on it; my pictures (obv), my music, my writing, my conversations and sense of humour and all my porn. ( (JOKE)
Luckily I’m insured and pretty much everything had been backed up pretty recently, so it’s not all bad**.