My cell phone broke today.  The very cell phone I bought last Tuesday, no less than six days ago.  The cell phone I had before that decided to stop charging, forcing me to make this new purchase.  This cell phone, the one that broke today, just stopped making pictures on the screen.  I honestly think the Air broke it, but of course my husband does not agree.  He keeps citing my cell phone track record–which isn’t great, I admit.  I’ve dropped my phone on the pavement–to many times to count.  I’ve dropped my phone in water.  I’ve spilled water on my phone.  I’ve had babies drool all over the plug part of my phone (causing water damage.)  I’ve literally driven over my phone.  But today, I was just talking around my phone and the screen stopped working.  I promise.

I wouldn’t be that upset, but now I have to spend hours and hours and hours in line at the cell phone place replacing my phone and reconfiguring said new phone with all my calendar and contact needs.  I hate spending my hours and hours and hours in line and reconfiguring.  And, I’m completely addicted to my phone.  I literally do not remember what I am supposed to be doing at any given moment in the day unless my phone beeps, dings, or calls me to remind me.  I have given my brain to that technological device, and now and scrambling to replace not only the phone, but I guess my brain, too.

I’m almost in panic mode-almost, but not quite.  I’m getting close, though.  If the cell phone goddesses can’t replace my brain tomorrow, I might just cry–a big, snotty cry, too.  It won’t be pretty.  How did it come to this???  I know I USED to have a REAL, working brain–not just an electronic one!