i'm a survivor!

The other day, at the end of my typical frenzied morning routine, I scurried out the door, locked it, and began walking to the subway. About a block and half later, I realized I'd made a horrible, frightening mistake--I left my cell phone at home.

I was running too late to go back and get it. And, despite my panic, I rationalized that I wouldn't really miss it or need it. I mean, it doesn't work on the subway, when I get to work I have a desk phone, later I had class, and then I'd be home. I could manage 12 hours without my cell phone...right?

All day I felt naked, exposed, vulnerable, lost, incomplete. I kept imagining the calls I was missing, the text messages that were piling up. I checked my voicemail once or twice from work but no one had left anything. Not many people do, though. I usually track through my missed calls, and I was missing it all!!

I considered going home at lunch to get the phone, but I decided I needed to prove to myself that I could last the day. I reminded myself that it was just like the "old fashioned way" of phone life, where you had ONLY a phone at home that would take messages for you when people called. You had to wait ALL day to get home and see who called. I did it years ago, I could do it again now, even though it had probably been about 4 years since I traveled anywhere without a phone.

By mid-afternoon, I had all the signs of an addict in withdrawal. Going cold-turkey may not have been the smartest decision. I tapped my fingers and feet, I had the shakes, and I grew obsessed with the void the phone left behind. I still had hours and hours to go, and the thought of my little Samsung sitting on the shelf at home just ate me up inside. But it was too late now, there was no turning back. I HAD to ride this out.

I met with my classmates as planned, and suffered until about 9:02 before I decided it was safe--and FREE--for me to borrow someone else's phone to "check for a very important message." I dialed, I entered my voicemail password, but alas, still no messages.

When I finally got home around 10:00, I made a beeline for the phone. It said I had missed calls, but I knew that logically most of them were probably me calling myself from other phones. I pressed buttons and reviewed, squealing with delight to have the cool metal and plastic against my hands. I'd missed my sister, my father, and a couple of others. And I had text messages too, dammit!! I knew I was missing something!

But in the end, I did survive. I made it from 8am to 10pm without my cell phone. It wasn't easy, but it was a real eye-opening experience for me. It was a real exercise in endurance and the human spirit. And I survived.