CELL HELL CONFESSSIONS
Are you attached to your cell phone? I know I am.
Maybe it's a result of the business I'm in. People in radio can't survive without their cell phones. For us, the cell phone is a vital link to the immediate world.
Leaving my cell phone at home and having to go back and get it is one of modern life's most potent accelerants for stress and anxiety. If my mind is too loose for me to remember my cell phone, what other calamities do I face? I spend more time dropping F-bombs on myself for forgetting my cell than I do blaming cosmic coincidence. It's my fault I forgot to take it, not the fault of the universe.
Looking for my cell phone when I get back home can be just as aggravating. If I don't see it in the first two seconds, gaskets in my brain begin leaking adrenalin into my body. If I don't find it in the next ten seconds, my entire nervous system will crash and go to code red. Everything I am is contained in that cell phone. I feel like I'm missing a body part.
I always keep my cell phone in my right hand front pocket of my jeans or jacket. That way I can slap my hand on the pocket to make sure the cell is secure. If there's nothing there, I my brain ices over and millions of thoughts collide all at once at the intersection of Sanity and Madness. When did I last use it? I can't remember. Who did I call? I can't remember. Who did I text? Where in my apartment did I last see it?
I can't remember.
My synapses misfire, blowing fuses and taking out brain cells. Fireworks explode inside my head. I'm frantically scanning my memory. What if I don't find it? How will anyone know where I am? How will I be able to connect to the outside world to let them know I'm currently off the grid?
I lift cushions off the couch and search the crevices. I give the bathroom a quick look. The cell's not next to my bed. It's not in the recharger on the counter. I know I didn't leave it in the car.
There's a brief moment of serenity. I've done my best. I've looked for it everywhere and it’s gone.
And then it happens. A video begins to play in that space right behind my forehead. I see myself getting dressed. I see myself putting on a jacket that’s too warm to wear. I see myself changing jackets.
The phone is right there. In the pocket of the jacket I didn't wear. The one that’s hanging in the closet. The one I was going to wear.
Finding your cell phone is one of the modern world's easy breathing pleasures. You have your friends back as well as all those numbers hiding behind their names. I'm back on the grid and back on the radar. All is well is well. I didn't go to cell phone hell.