Gone Phone

Lost Phone, Lost Sanity

Yesterday, my world came to a crashing halt.

I could not find my phone.

Within minutes, I entered full-blown panic mode. I tried calling it using the landline phone. I overturned everything in every room I’d been in, and then, those I hadn’t. I retraced every step, trying to remember the last time I’d used it.

I determined I dropped it while walking Charlie around the neighborhood.

I called Sam, hyperventilating about how I’d have to scour every inch of the walk I’d just taken, worried that someone found it and made off with it. Sam offered to try Find My Phone from his office computer.

During the minutes it took before he called me back, I dusted off my bike to embark on what I feared would be a futile mission.

Then, Sam called to say my phone was directly across the street from our next door neighbor’s driveway, at the side of the road.

Heart pounding, I walked to the designated spot. Sure enough, lying half in the road, half in the grass was a navy blue rectangle the exact size of an iPhone 10 Plus.

Relief flooded every pore. Crisis averted; the great world commenced once again to spin. On the heels of this, a thought: my dependence on my phone is unhealthy. On the heels of that, I love Sam and Find My Phone.

Today, I wake up grateful for the technology that enabled me to find the technology that has me by the throat.