Life, Problems

@Losing_The_Phone

Ah yes, the cell phone. A loving and comforting device used by its generation way too much. Yes, our age group gladly burns out their retinas with blue light at 11, browsing sensitive topics on the 'Net and laughing at everyone's stupidity before realizing you yourself are an absolute idiot.

Often paired with Pringles and Netflix, a critique of our generation's newfound addiction is common amongst parents, guardians and middle-school reports; "Your generation is addicted to tiny boxes of circuitry and photons! Mooooo!" But come on, you adults, just sign up with Koodo and download Panda Pop. As for the children, watch as your previously defiant parents are hopelessly converted to the dark side. Worked for me.

Since our loving non-sentient companions have wedged themselves so dear in our stupid little pink brain guts, it is obviously such a loss when we happen to misplace Larry the iPhone.

There's the initial panic of rushing around like 'OH WHERE DID I LEAVE IT' before you may or may not realize where your personal box is. If you do find it fast, you're riding high and also have no place in this book. What I'm really talking about is when you can't find it.

Oh, shizzle. This is about to get real.

You run back to your room, hoping and praying it will still be there or magically reappear, playing a holy angel choir from its half-dead speaker, a ray of heavenly light shining through its miniature flashlight---but no, it hasn't shown! Insert the mad dash of you scrambling though every room of your house with a wild look in your eyes, like a rabid dog looking for a bunny or a chicken leg or something like that.

After twenty minutes, you're tired. Exhausted. You fall onto a chair somewhere. Maybe catch your breath. Think about everywhere you last had it, debate using Find my iPhone, debate buying a new cell phone altogether. Ah yes, you mutter. I could use an update from that old lump of crap. Your trust in your cell phone may start to disintegrate into crumbs of fated, electronic betrayal.

How long the Wait Period continues, I can't tell. A week, two maybe, a month, half a year. Hopefully someday you find Larry the iPhone again, have a cheesy reunited moment like something out of a rom-com Titanic, then carry on with your idiotic life before you lose it again.

Sometimes, though, perhaps you won't find it. In that case, you really do deserve a spot on my page. Good job.