Ten.Five Hundred & Forty-Six
I should probably just get up.
Ok. Scones first, then pretzels, then cake. I can’t believe I have an 11-year old.
I am not missing my phone. But I also am.
Breaking my coffee fast.
I hear my phone dinging. I have no idea who it might be. I write a post on Facebook that I don’t have a phone. But I only have 10 friends on Facebook. Whomever is texting me probably isn’t friends with me on Facebook. Oh, well.
The replacement phone is also broken. 2-3 business days, he says.
I shouldn’t have had that coffee.
The kind of panic that sets in when you realize that you won’t have a phone for the very phone-based online writing course you facilitate. The kind of way your heart flutters faster. And then there’s the acceptance that maybe it won’t be the most perfect run for you. That less-than-perfect should always be the expectation. Hope for the best, expect it to not go perfectly.
Snuggled up with her and Alfred Hitchcock.