Now tell me honestly, does this look like the face of a woman adverse to change?(Those who know me well are doubled over, wetting themselves as they laugh hysterically.)
Because, yes, indeed my face would appear next to the definition of change adverse.
But its not my fault. I just can't seem to help it.
As of this morning (or was it last night?) at 12am, we no longer have a home phone. Or as some of the young folk call it, a *land line.* As for me... I L.O.V.E. my home phone. I love our number, I love the way it used to roll off the tip of my tongue. I love that the voice mail proudly announced that this was OUR home and that you could leave a message. (I did hate the actual phone. My mom got us a QVC *deal* years ago and it has required a monthly battery change, but hey, no love is perfect, right?)I was up from 3 'til 4:30 in the morning last night with lots of stuff on my mind. But one of those things was the loss of my home phone. I know its stupid, but I was seriously worried. You see, its complicated. We're not actually getting rid of our number (we need it for our security system... that's FYI to all you burglars out there) but instead, you can call me... I just don't have caller ID anymore, so I can't screen you. We also no longer have voice mail, so you can't leave me a message. I can call in town (for $.04 a minute) but I can't make long distance calls.
So after losing sleep, Steve went up to the attic, blew the dust off of THAT bad boy (yep, that is a vintage, one of a kind, answering machine!) and set it up for me. It's next stop will be the Smithsonian. No worries now!
Except for the fact, that if you know ANYTHING about me you know that I N.E.V.E.R. know where my cell phone is.And if I do know where it is, its probably not charged.
And if its charged, its probably buried deep in the recesses of one of my 5 bags that I lug around.
So, this is me, coming into the Zero's (aughts, tens... what ARE we going to call this century we're in???) And along side of my cell is our Ipod NANO. We got it in November and have yet to put music on it. It's not that we're stupid (right?) its more like we're intimidated. Or shy. Or lazy. Yeah, lazy. That seems like the best option (ouch, that's not saying much is it?)
Once upon a time I was a hip, youthful 20 something living in NYC... carrying around my tape playing Walkman. ahhhh.. the good 'ole days.
3 comments:
E, I totally relate. It must be an ESFP thing. I do know where my cell phone is either but half the time the battery is dead or I can't hear it because it is always in my purse at the bottom. I actually prefer the reception on the "landline" to the cell phone so we haven't given up our landline yet. We're too old for cell phone and thus can't HEAR very well on those little contraptions. Plus I have to have my reader glasses on to even see the small numbers on my cell phone. So what is the point of using it except for emergencies on the road. My younger friends have switched over though. The problem now though, is trying to remember everyone's phone preferences... call landline first, but leave messages on cell phone, or call my cell phone but leave messages on landline or yes or no to text. YIKES! It is always great though to chat on the phone with you!
i like it E! but it seems you really can't let go. that is so funny to me!!!
I had that exact answering machine...in high school or maybe college! And that was...ahem....a *few* years ago. I hope that relic still works for you!
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