I succumbed. This is why.
My phone did a face-plant into the gravel driveway last Saturday. Note also the hanging-by-a-thread cover on the recharging port. [I may have sprained it.] Plus, I had grown weary of hitting each button multiple times in order to text, and I refuse to use predictive text. I like being quirky and unpredictable, thank you very much!
Because I am so cheap about upgrading my phone, and do it so rarely, I was able to get a new one for $29.99, which I’m guessing is what the components cost my carrier. I will now have GPS capability, though I might not turn it on: it’s more than a little redundant, as I rarely get lost. But it might prove useful if my mind wanders off into east nowhere. Or the next time I get a flat tire and call one of the boys for help.
It’s red, of course. I almost went for one with a slide-out keyboard, but it only came in black. On this model I had a choice of screaming red or screaming purple or something tastefully bland; I was briefly tempted by the purple but afraid my kids would die of shock. I love my kids and I worked too hard to get them here; why would I intentionally do something to harm them?
When I got home on Monday, there was an email from my cell phone provider, saying that my phone had shipped. They said overnight shipping(!!!), so I thought it might arrive on Tuesday. And technically it did, but it was buried amongst a dozen or so big boxes and wound up in the supply room until our IT person started opening things yesterday morning.
Not only is it red, it is paisley! I stopped off at the store to have my contacts transplanted into the new phone and then to have it activated. [I didn’t want to activate it until I had everybody’s contact information nailed down.] I still haven’t picked out a ring-tone. I really like the one I had, but this phone is a different brand than the old one, so I’m not holding my breath. The old ring-tone made me feel as if I were sitting at a sidewalk cafe in Paris, watching the tourists walk by as I dipped chunks of croissant into a big bowl of hot milk.
OK, maybe not your idea of a Real Good Time, but this is my fantasy life we are talking about.
I was nearly done with the gussets on Brainless when I went to bed last night. Chances are excellent that I will turn the heel before going to bed tonight.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!