After eight months of being cell phone free, my new phone arrived in the mail on Tuesday. I thought I might be excited or relieved but instead I feel vaguely nauseous.
It’s a beautiful phone and I’m sure it will be nice to be able to call people if something terrible ever happens to me when I have the phone, the phone has reception, and I’m alone in the middle of the desert where no one else has a phone. It will also be nice for people to be able to get in touch with me when I’m out to dinner with my friends or in a movie theatre and I’ll really enjoy being the first person to whip out my cell phone when a plane touches the tarmac. It will be really helpful when my friends and I no longer need to make real plans or be on time to meet each other since we can just call and have loud conversations on the bus if we’re running late. I’m especially excited that I get to worry about losing the phone or breaking it or forgetting to turn it off before a movie or leaving it at home or at work or in my other purse. And I think it will really add something to social events and intimate conversations with friends if I take a break every few minutes check my voicemail or send a text message.
Yeah, it’s pretty cool, I guess. It’s like a beautiful, sparkling anklet that I just noticed is attached to a ball and chain.