That’s Russell and me, in case you wondered.
I’m down at Wink’s again, though she isn’t here tonight. A friend was taking her to the theatre and then, to save the trip back late at night, she is staying over. Jennifer lives in the town where Wink works, so she can walk to her office in the morning. I will meet her at lunchtime (she’s still officially signed off work, but we Humphery girls don’t malinger (you’re not ill with a hip replacement, after all) and were both back in harness soon after our ops. She’s just working mornings, because one does get quite tired.
I had so much to do this morning that I left an hour later than scheduled, not having finished, so I have had to bring my computer again, which I had hoped not to do. It was raining, so I put it in a big box that Squiffany’s present had been delivered in, packed it round with pillows and Russell helped me load it in the car. Because of the late start, I got caught in traffic and had a slow section of the journey, not arriving until 8.15.
I phoned home and no reply. I phoned Russell’s mobile, no reply. I gave up, looked in Wink’s fridge and headed for the village. There were four options: the Indian, the Chinese, a pub or something from the Co-op. And the last was what I went for, buying pasta and a sauce.
While they were cooking, I set up my computer,and realised I didn’t remember packing my mouse. So I rang Russell again – a bit surprised that he hadn’t rung me. He answered. “Can you ring my mobile?” were his first words. There was no reply on his mobile, so I waited – or rather, I ate my dinner and drank some wine. In due course, he phoned back. He’d lost his iPhone.
Those of you with iPhones will understand the devastating feeling. He was immensely upset. However, and most fortunately, he had used the torch to find the keyhole as he came in, so he knew it was in the house. The next ten minutes or so was spent with me phoning him while he scooted round the house into every room he’d been in, listening for it.
Finally, we gave up. He lamented his foolishness but I was sympathetic. He hadn’t left it on a shop counter (I have) and he hadn’t packed it in a box bound for Scotland (Rog). He knew it was in the house, which demonstrates the importance of rarely letting it out of your sight, so that you never forget the last place you had it.
I fetched Wink’s mouse, which is cordless … and won’t connect with my computer, chiz chiz. So I have an unscheduled (that auto corrected to a nun’s exiled, which really makes no sense at all) evening off and have had another glass of wine. I hope the local electrical shop can sell me a mouse, otherwise I’ll be off to the supermarket ten minutes down the road.
Oh – soon after putting the phone down, after a final call to Russell’s mobile, I received a call from him. He found it. He’d put it back in his jacket pocket. He felt no end of a fool. I assured him that he wasn’t in the least, it’s normal.
Normal For Norfolk, darlings.
My solution to Lost iPhone Anxiety Syndrome is not to own one. It’s worked so far.
Doesn’t your computer have a touchpad?
Before I had one, I felt the same way. Now, I’d go without many things before relinquishing my iPhone.
It’s a desktop (being a Mac, it’s easily portable), not a laptop and it doesn’t have a touchpad. And I have a cordless mouse, so it wasn’t plugged in.
Not having my phone would drive me to drink. In fact, it’s such an unpleasant thought…I’m going to put more coffee on.
xx
The day before yesterday my husband and I searched the whole house, garage and car, over and over, looking for my car keys. We gave up. My husband reached into his pants pocket for his keys and pulled out mine. Guess who was feeling very much like the Sage!
I can’t speak for other smartphone owners, but everyone with an iPhone feels the same way.
I hope you were kind, LZM. These things have a habit of rebounding, next time it may be you – or me!