Ask me where my cell phone is at this exact moment. Go ahead, I dare you. The answer? I have no idea! I go through phases like this, where it is impossible to keep track of the darned thing. Is it upstairs? Downstairs? Between the couch cushions? Who knows! Then other times I always have it on my person. It seems to just magically follow me around. Perhaps it just needs it's space?
It is liberating to be on the freeway and realize you are completely off the grid. No one can contact you. It's kind of nice. And kind of annoying/scary.
I am disturbed by this recent trend of leaving the phone on the counter, by my makeup, or under the bed.... this is how it always starts. And it always seems to end with finding it in the pocket of some jeans I have just removed from the washer. Many a phone has met it's certain demise in the stainless steel bowl of our washing machine. Every load of laundry is getting me that much closer to that particular brand of frantic horror.