So you probably know by now that I lost my phone last week (I say lost, I mean left in public unattended to get thieved). Whilst the fools at Direct Line are still prepared to insure me, and the even bigger fools at O2 have agreed to upgrade me 3 months early, the catch is not until January 28th... this is despite being a Gold Reward member thanks to some particularly eye watering bills I racked up in Kenya and NY. So my logical mind deduced there's not much point in putting in a (nother) claim, instead it seemed much more rational to go phoneless for 8 weeks. Call this a social experiment if you will.
Crazy? Probably. Gone are the days of iPhone dependency (Guys, I lost all my lists!). Definitely. If in a week I'm tearing my hair out and I give in to the cheapest, tackiest pay as you go I can find, don't judge me. But I like to think I am stronger than that. Place your bets (for or against) now...
Over the next 8 weeks I hope to:
a) find better things to do with my time rather than pretending to look busy on my phone whilst avoiding eye contact with every other human being in the room
b) be less likely to make unachievable plans when I'm drunk (of the 'Let's go climbing/cycling/*insert any activity* here at 9am!' variety)
c) be less rude - no more checking texts/fb/emails at the dinner table or taking work calls on evenings/weekends
d) improve my sense of direction rather than relying on an app telling me to turn right in 100 yds (how long is a yard anyway?)
e) improve my time keeping, and yours
f) snooze less - my new alarm clock (yes - when was the last time you owned one of these?) does not allow me this privilege
The logisitics
Over the years of failing to own a phone for a whole contract period, I have created myself a super little spreadsheet with all your numbers on it (Excel is for life, not just for 9-5). So coupled with a pocket full of small change, I'll be able to contact you.
So here's how to contact me...
In the day time I'll be on my work address because the fun police don't alllow us to access hotmail or facebook at work.
In the evenings and weekends I'll be on my hotmail address, facebook or my LANDLINE (oh yes, crazy concept I know. Look in that annoying box of electrical wires you've accumulated over the years and you probably have one too). If all else fails you could always take a risk and knock on my door like we used to do when we were 8. There was never a wrong time to make a den then and there is never a wrong time for a coffee or a beer now.
Some people have asked what will happen in an emergency? I think: What like that pair of shoes screaming 'Save me!' from a shop window? Oh! You mean like an accident emergency. Gotcha. I can't remember the last time I had one of these, so touch wood this is a very unlikely scenario. But just in case I will be sharing my work number and Hannah's mobile number with my family and the few people I think would bring the best 'Get Well' presents to the hospital for me. If you want automatic entry to this VIP list, befriend Bradley Cooper, he would definitely make me feel better.
The rules
1. If we're meeting, don't be late. I won't know you're running late because you won't have been able to send me that bulls**t message about delays on London transport or your cat eating your keys. I will be waiting at the arranged place at the arranged time with my book which I will carry on me at all times, for moments when I'm freezing my arse off waiting for you. I'll take gloves too just in case.
2. Don't take the easy option and think 'I'll just wait and see her in February'. Contact me by any non-mobile phone media you can lay your hands on, and don't make me feel less popular than David Cameron at an EU conference. Also don't prove my tactless colleague right, the one who said 'Aren't you worried they just won't bother' after I'd excitedly shared my plan with her.
3. Don't ask me if I got your text. I will only reply 'No. Did you not get my email?'
4. If your reaction to this experiment is 'Can we agree a meeting place in case we get separated' when we're just going to the cinema... then perhaps I'll see you in February. You might wonder why I'm including this rule, well I've included it because this actually happened last week. God knows how my friend thought he could lose me between the entrance, the queue for cinema treats and our reserved seats but anywho...
Please bear with me, this will either be the best or worst thing I've ever done...
Leonie x
P.s. Brixton is not on the river so no messages in a bottle please.
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