I spent months scouring stores in search of the perfect purse to carry my phone and my wallet. My new phone doesn’t fit in my pockets, an inevitable outcome of current smart phone trends. Now, I could keep it in my regular purse, the giant monstrosity I bought to carry my laplet, but if I started carrying that bad boy everywhere, my spine would go Quasimodo in a week. (Interesting note on female psychology: this is the second purse quest I have had since buying the monster purse. The first quest was finding a mid-sized purse to hold all the smaller things in my big purse, like my passport and checkbook and crayons and things, because the big purse was pretty much a duffel of chaos and all the little stuff was making it difficult to find the things I actually needed. So I bought a purse to go in my purse.) All I wanted was a phone sized bag that would hold my wallet as well. Is that too much to ask?
Yes it is, apparently. Otherwise the search wouldn’t have taken so long. There were clutches that could barely hold paper let alone anything three-dimensional. There where phone cases (mostly for iPhones, the monopolizing choads) that were designed to hold a phone and things that go in a wallet, provided you keep it to a couple of credit cards. Anything that was remotely functional or practical was hideous. Now, it might make me shallow to refuse to purchase a practical item just because it doesn’t suit my style, but I simply can’t walk around with a lime green clutch with a giant, fake diamond on the clasp. I was getting a bit ticked, even considering making my own purse, when I entered a low-rent version of Charming Charlies.
Most of it was cheap junk, little old lady fashion and atrocious attempts at sophisticated style. No amount of bedazzling is going to make a baseball cap classy, okay? But at the front of the store, there were little bags that fit both my phone and my wallet snugly. A zipper pocket in the back for my wallet and an open slot pocket for the phone, with a broad strap with a snap to keep the phone from falling out. The poor thing was sequined to within an inch of its life, but sequins and beads are the type of gaudy decoration that is easy to remove. So I did. It was an ideal solution.
Then the purse slipped out of my jacket pocket when we were getting groceries. It landed with the phone face down, right on the snap. It fell a foot, landed just wrong, and cracked the screen. Now I have a very pretty alarm clock that I have to remove the SIM card to shut off. Repairing it would cost almost as much as buying a new one, especially since it isn’t a model carried by the phone companies (we bought it straight from Sony). So Buddy ordered a new one as well as his own new phone (it was time). His is on the way. Mine is on back order.
I didn’t write this all down to b*tch about bad luck and frustratingly fragile technology, though that is kind of what happened anyway. No, I just want to point out all the ways being without my cell phone is screwing with my life in an attempt to illustrate just how reliant I’ve become on this tech. I already mentioned the alarm, which I can neither change or deactivate without a working touch screen. I got a text from someone shortly after it broke and I have no way of knowing who it’s from (this is really driving my OCD crazy). I can’t communicate with my husband while he’s at work. I can’t communicate with anyone outside of the internet and real life. I can’t write on my food blog because the log in requires confirmation through my phone.
Worst of all, I can’t play Sudoku before I go to bed to shut off my brain. This…this is hell, ladies and gents. Hell.