Lately my phone, once my friend, has become my foe.
I feel it embarrasses me with its lack of exercise.
It’s there as a constant antagonizing reminder of times when more people than Chloe would message me on a daily basis (or weekly basis sometimes).
Despite the shameful fact that I seem to check it every ten minutes (at least) there is rarely any change in status.
I would ideally like to ditch my phone completely, to save myself the inner humiliation of yet another day where my phone only sounds its sweet charms once (my alarm in the morning).
But as I found out at Nan’s house on Monday night – the one day that you decide to leave your phone elsewhere from your pocket, is the only day it is actually useful (Nan woke me up at 5:15 and I, thinking it was 6, got up and got ready for work, only realizing the time when I went to walk out the door).
Damn you blackberry!!
Why must you shame me so?