Some mornings, I just feel rushed the moment I wake up. Such was the case today, when I shoveled my laundry into the bin and tossed my water bottle and phone on top to carry everything downstairs. The fitted sheet had pulled off the corners of our mattress, and the top sheet was nowhere to be seen, oddly. So making the bed took more time than it typically does. I was about ten minutes off my usual timing when I arrived downstairs, which in turn meant I only had a half an hour to get the laundry going, have a cup of coffee, make a power shake and check my email before I’d have to head out to my 8:25 class, twenty minutes from home.
Everything felt off kilter. I spilled protein powder all over the counter. The leggings I’d put on were too damn hot—after two cool days, the heat is back. John and I were edgy with each other over breakfast. Somehow the time got away from me. When I looked at my watch, it was almost 8:05. I should have left ten minutes ago. I barked at John to move his car while I grabbed keys, water bottle, phone.
Wait: Where the hell was my phone? I keep the playlists for my classes on it, or I would have just bolted out the door sans ITunes. It was set to “Do Not Disturb”, so it would be no use calling it. I raced up to our bedroom on the third floor, no phone. Down to the kitchen again, maybe under the newspaper? Nope. Not in the bathroom or on the kitchen counters or the porch table. Valuable minutes were ticking past. It was almost 8:10 when it came to me: I had put the phone in the laundry bin. I had put the laundry in the washer. Oy vey.
You know where this is going. My phone is now extremely clean. Non-functioning, but sparkling. It’s sitting on the kitchen counter in a mug-full of rice, in the hopes it will dry out and the home button will start working again. Fifty-fifty chance of that.
So where is the mixed blessing here, you may be wondering?
I have to confess, I had a lovely day without the dang thing. My class was relaxing and playful (I used my laptop for the music.) A few students were also running behind, so it didn’t matter than I came screeching in to teach five minutes late. I’m certainly a far less distracted driver without my device. Even though I have a hands-free interface, it’s tempting to take a peek. It was relaxing to go about my day secure in the knowledge that no one could reach me. No one really needs to all that badly; I’m not a trauma surgeon. It felt good to reclaim my independence. Presumably, I’ll be back to my old bad habits in no time.
Then again: maybe not.