A Tale of Two Phones

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . . we had everything before us, we had nothing before us. . . .
--Charles Dickens
   A Tale of Two Cities

My phone still looks the same. The same little love scratch is still on the screen. But no one is home. It's a shell of its former self. I buried it in my sock drawer.

Mr. Sam Sung went belly up, right on my desk. Not even time for last rites. At least he went quietly instead of blowing up or catching fire. And when I selected a replacement, the folks at the phone store were able to retrieve my messages and phone book and transfer them to New Phone.

Never mind that it took me an hour later that night to figure out why New Phone didn't ring. And how to get beyond the locked screen that said it was unlocked. And add my own images. An hour I could have spent reading. Or answering some of the email in my inbox.

But all of that is now old history. New Phone and I are playing well together. And I hope we have a long and happy relationship.

So I was wondering how I could work this story into a blog post by relating it to something else - like the writing life or writing craft or promotion or any of those other things we deal with on a daily basis.

And I came up empty.

So this one has to stand on its own, regardless of Mr. Dickens' sage words.

Anyone want to buy a slightly abused used phone shell?

Happy Monday!

Update: After I wrote this post, Live-In Handyman surprised me with a mini-vacation. So I'm not really here. I will be around between now and Wednesday, but not too much. See you later in the week!