Rest in peace, dear phone. I have loved and hated and loved and loathed you for SEVEN years. You went places with me that no person has gone before…bathroom, gyno visit, the bathroom. I will miss you, but clearly your time was up cuz you declared that I had a terminal failure in some port I didn’t know existed. Farewell and know that my next phone, which I already have in my hot little hands, will never mean as much to me as…Oooooh! Look at all the new buttons and apps and…sorry, um…later old phone.
The reality is this, I HATE GETTING NEW TECH. I hate having to relearn where things are and how the new version works. I just want what I had. I just want my calendar to be a frickin’ calendar and my apps to be as they were AND because my old phone, may it rest in peace, was soooo old I was unable to transfer pictures and music and documents and EVERYTHING! I now have to start fresh. Look, I’m too old to start fresh on anything. Fresh doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. Day old? Sure. Antique? I can relate. Fresh? Does not compute.
I took such good care of my cell that, after 7 years, it didn’t have a single scratch on it. Seriously! Not one. The day I brought it home it was lovingly encased in an Otterbox and never saw the light of day again. The case was beat to hell, but the phone was pristine, yet, dead. Just one more piece of proof that you should never judge a book by its cover.
It’s a sad, sad day as I sit here poking at this newfangled contraption trying to add Facebook, Twitter, WordPress, email, Shazam, Zedge, a frickin’ alarm clock, music, a calendar (that I have to re-enter EVERYTHING into), contacts, more contact, did I mention contacts…ARGH!!!
Why do so many people love getting new crap? It’s so much hard work to get it just so, to only replace it a year later. I like to fix what’s broken, or at least try before I just toss it. I remember how much that phone cost. It was a huge chunk of change out of my family’s piggy bank. I guess that’s why I took such good care of it. I knew its value. We felt the pinch of all that missing cash.
Oh well, I guess I get to spend massive amounts of time trying to figure this new appendage out.
What’s your phone number, birthday, anniversary, bat mitzvah location, party date again? You know, cuz I have to input it and everything else into this new phone.
Now if only I could remember my screen lock combination…
New Ink. Used Ideas. 