A while ago, I was without my phone for two days. I unfortunately dropped my precious phone in one of the disgusting bar toilets. I tried my best to wipe away all of the water, but most of it had already sank into my phone and sent it into a shock. The screen went black then popped up orange and shut off. I ran out of the bar and across the street to the local hibachi place. I begged them to give me some dry rice that could hopefully help save my phone. They gave me a box of rice, but there was no way I was going to be walking around with a box that contacted my phone and rice for the rest of the night. My roommate and I started hoping from place to place to find a plastic bag for the rice and phone. Finally someone found me a bright, blue grocery bag! It was one of the most exiting times in my life. My roommate and I were literally jumping and screaming in joy. For the rest of the night I had that bright, blue grocery bag filled with rice and my phone stuffed into my purse while I danced the night away.
The next morning reality set in. My forever companion had lost its life last night. I was on the Internet for several hours trying to find a quick fix way that could resurrect my dear friend, but it was useless. I called my mom to let her know what happened and she ordered me a replacement phone. I was not going to get this stranger until Tuesday. It was Sunday. My roommate told me that two days wasn’t going to be that bad and I agreed, but deep down I was going insane. How am I going to know what is going on? How was I going to talk to my friends? How was I going to listen to the new Justin Bieber song? How was I going to know what happened in the next Twitter fight? Little did I know that all of those things were so tiny in the overall use of my phone. I did not notice how much I needed my phone until Monday.
I had no alarm without my phone and as much as I would like to skip class, I had to get up and go. My roommate became my new alarm clock and woke me up with a nice, soft “Good morning Ashlyn, it’s time to get up.” That was better compared to my blaring phone that blasted my ear drums at eight in the morning. When I walk to class I like to listen to my playlists, so I have some type of entertainment going on. That was not going to happen for the next two days. The playlist that I heard was Lawn Mower by Nice Worker, Loud Honks by Pissed Off Driver, and Soft Cries by Stressed Students. It wasn’t my favorite playlist, but it wasn’t the worst I have ever listened too. When I arrived to my classes, I noticed that everyone was on their phones waiting for class to begin. I was unable to have that opportunity to hear my fellow Twitterers of their morning complaints. I patiently waited for my classes to begin as I twiddled my thumbs and stared into space. I was able to use my computer to text my friends and check in on my social media sites, but it was not the same. I missed the touch of my small metal rectangle in my hands. As much as two days not seem that bad, it is a lifetime to a social media addicted teenager. Yes, I will admit that I fall into the stereotype that this generation is addicted to their phones. I am not as extreme as some people are, but if I cannot even know what time it is without my phone then there is a slight problem.
On Tuesday, I finally got my new phone. It took me four hours to figure out how to sync the darn thing (I am not technology savvy if you could not tell). My life finally got its missing piece back and I have kept my phone ten feet away from a toilet ever since.