I parted with an old friend this past weekend.
I handed over my cute, little, not-so-smart phone to the Verizon store so they could give it to a women's shelter.
It has been a good friend, reliable and kind.
|My baby toy|
It wasn't very impressive as cell phones go but I loved it.
I had even bought a 25-cent flowery case to dress it up.
But my husband had better things in mind for me. He was convinced that I needed a smart phone and that I would love it once I had one.
Our contract was up with our carrier and Marc's phone was misbehaving so off we went to "look."
Now I have a jazzier, more modern iPhone 5s and I'm having to learn new skills, new ways to navigate to do what I want.
It isn't enough to find the phone when it's ringing inside my purse.
I have to "slide to unlock" it and start listening.
When I'm done, I hit the orange phone.
At least, I think that is what I do.
I'm having a hard time.
There are all sorts of buttons and apps that beckon to me, all kinds of things to deal with.
I sit down when I have a minute and try to get acquainted but I get lost or stuck pretty quickly. (So far I can play Jenga and the girl at Hobby Lobby helped me find my 40-percent-off coupon.)
|The snazzier, jazzier|
I guess I really have no choice in the matter.
I can either adapt or pay for an expensive toy that I don't know how to play with properly.
In the meantime, I miss my familiar friend.
I miss the keyboard. I miss knowing what to do when someone leaves me a message or calls in while I'm already on the line.
I feel oddly alone.
I sometimes wish I could just hit speed dial and phone home.