An Apology

I would like to start by apologising for my tardiness.  Besieged by misery and despair, it is with a heavy heart that I bring you this week’s blog. I nearly didn’t do it.  Crashed into my tear sodden pillow and pretended it had never happened.  Pretended that I haven’t done the unthinkable; you see, last night, I dropped my phone down the loo..

 

Now, I am no stranger to breaking stuff; especially phones. However, when your whole world is listed and catalogued onto various apps, along with, ladies and gentlemen, this week’s blog #1.  You see I spent yesterday lunchtime researching and writing a highly engaging and witty piece about April Fools Day.  I thought it wasn’t too bad a write and with just the job of editing to do this morning, I felt, for once, home and dry (what have I said about being smug?)  Yes, pride does become before a spectacular fall from my six inch pink suede stilettos.

Again, I am sorry that this week’s little gem is precariously teetering between life and death. I am sure you would have enjoyed it.  Angry is the word I think.  I’ve been slowly simmering like the spring lamb stew, which I am currently cooking for the masses this afternoon.  However, I realised, when coating the gammon with a rather glorious honey and mustard glaze, that life goes on and so should I.  You see, on occasions like this I have to check myself.  Maybe I had been inspired by a book I am reading.  Set in war torn Paree, they had to guts and balls to rebuild on many an occasion.  Oh how the women of Paris had to cope in the desperate deaths of depravity in World War Two.  The fact that life continued and they had to survive one way or another shamed me.  All I’d done was lose my phone whilst having a wee; hardly grounds for PTSD.  Therefore, with reflection and shame I dusted off the old laptop and here I am.

It is now nearly two and I am acutely aware that my best friend and nearest and dearest, might think I am dead. Had this have been an orindary day I would have logged onto some device by now and set myself up with a temporary contact.  However, this is certainly not an ordinary day.  Him stunned me late last night with the mention of an impromptu hot buffet to be served as a late lunch today.  Therefore, I have spent most of today readying the house for such a shindig.  All the while becoming tenser and tenser as the phone continues to lay in A and E –  a bed of brown rice.

What upsets me about this whole scenario isn’t the fact that I didn’t take my own pearls of wisdom and take a bag out for my phone (the children say, if this was us…).  Neither do I feel embarrassed that I had to fish it out of the loo.  I am actually mad with myself for being so attached to my bloody iPhone.  How did I get to the point that I prioritise the thing ahead of everything else? (this is where I weigh it up against my own children) Yes, how sad that it contains everything.  I am fully aware that I tend to use it for photos, videos (so my camera is currently redundant and languishing at the bottom of the drawer), email (work and personal, although it is relief that I cant view the former),notes and lists (I tend not to put pen to paper so much these days) and of course all my contacts.  I can remember a time I would go away and have a phone, camera, address book, notepad and pen within my bag.  So really it’s , my own cocky fault for not carrying everything in my bag.

This crisis has prompted te question (and hand on heat here), how did we get so reliant? I am durprised at myself for being at such a loss.  I am the first to advocate chucking it ito the safe on holiday.  Or, even, leaving it in my bedroom with a ‘devil may care, I don’t need my phone attitude’.  This is where my case falls down; it has transpired that I actually need it.  That said, I am determined to turn this around.

As a result, much to my children’s horror there will be a new amnesty. I have decided that all   Much to their utter dismay, they will be relinquishing all electronic devises from 8pm each evening.  I hate the blank faces they pull when staring at the virtual world they are enraptured with.  Now we have done this before.  However, this time I am determined we will all break this terrible habit of relying on a phone.  Not to get too evangelical about it, I think iPhone cleansing is the way forward.  Let’s see who can cope, who can care and who can ho;d a conversation, or settle an argument without Googling it.  It’ll be like the Apprentice on the shopping round.  Everyone will have to go back to reference books.  Libraries will have to reopen and the printed press would increase circulation (oh the romance).      So the following might sound selfish;  I however think it will promote an awakening.  Give it up.  Just for a day.  Give it up.  Ring people on your house phone (you might need to dust it off).  Send a letter (I long for the days when my friends used to write).  Do you know what?  Call someone for a cuppa!  I bet they’d love it.  You see personal, effort-like gestures mean more than some quickly fired text or photo do any day.  Now at this point I neec to point out that I am, inno way, trying to get people to share my misery.

Instead, like I said, let’s turn this disaster around; let’s find ways to converse and communicate without the aid of a phone.  Let’s enjoy the sound of each other’s voices and find new ways to answer questions.  And if you’re realy bored (because lets be honest, you will be) cross our fingers you get a mid-week bonus blog.  Pray for the magic bag of rice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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