Diary Of A Mad White Woman Without Her Phone

I didn’t notice how serious this relationship was until it was too late. They weren’t kidding when they said “you don’t know what you’ve got till’ it’s gone.” Now you’re not here, and I feel lost and confused as to what to do without you. A piece of me is missing. And it’s the piece that belongs in the palm of my hand at all times. You’re my iPhone. I was stupid and reckless. I brought you out without a case, dropped you in the bathroom, or forgot you in my Uber ride last night. Regardless, this was my fault and now I must pay the price (unless I have insurance, phew.) I must suffer without you in my life for an extended period of time (more than four hours).

First off, how do I tell what time it is? Sure I wear a watch, but I didn’t realize until now that the battery broke and I never changed it, it was for show anyway. Asking strangers for the time was just in the movies wasn’t it? Asking for the time – I might as well ask them if they have room on their horse and buggy too. I’d rather Google how to read a sun dial and just use that. DAMN IT. I can’t google because I don’t have a phone.

Contacting my friends. They’ll know how to talk me down from the hysteria that is building. Wait, I don’t actually know ANY of their numbers. I haven’t had to know phone numbers since eight grade before my pink razr. They put it in my phone once and boom, done. Even if I had their number, what am I supposed to do? I can’t even tell you the last time I’ve seen a pay phone, and no one bothers to get land lines in their apartments anymore. Contacting them on social media on my laptop requires Wifi, and Dear God do I miss my data plan right now.

I forget what I’m suppose to do with my hands in public. I’m sitting on the train, in the waiting room at the doctors office, or killing time before my coffee order is ready. Do I just look around the room? Look at people? No, I’m going to seem creepy. Eye contact is a thing of the past, and if I look available for too long some stranger is going to try to start a conversation.

Telling my friends about my day is impossible if I don’t text them THE SECOND it happens. Caught a guy staring at my butt? Had a funny name written on my Starbucks cup that was NOTHING like my own? Complain that every treadmill at the gym was taken? I can’t just REMEMBER all these little things that make up my day and tell them in person. What if I see something funny. Without my phone to take pictures, am I expected to to DESCRIBE it to them? What is this, pitctionary?

Okay I’m at the gym. How am I supposed to listen to music? My old iPod only has music back from middle / high school and it…okay these throwbacks are kind of funny and entertaining, God why did I like Avril Lavigne and Gwen Stafani so much? Maybe this part isn’t so bad.

Most important, what do I do when I’m supposed to meet up with my friends? We said meet at the bar at 10pm. So you’re saying I’m just suppose to GO and TRUST that they show up on time? No be there in five or I’m on my way text?! Not only are twenty-something year olds notoriously late, they’re about as indecisive as it gets and will change the location at least three times. Within fifteen minutes of waiting am I safe to assume they’ve just abandoned me? Jesus how did our parents do this every weekend? This type of suspense is excruciating.

I get all the news and happenings of my friends on social media. Read a newspaper you say? My parents get those, but where am I suppose to get it? Is it free? Which one do I get? More importantly, how am I suppose to know what my friends look like today without Snapchat, or what they had for lunch without Instagram?

Even when I’m with my friends I feel your absence. When we’re waiting for the food to come at the restaurant, or there is a break in the Netflix marathon – they’re all looking at their phones responding to texts. I’m left here twiddling my thumbs and trying to talk to them while they say hold on, one sec.


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