The phone that MB had been using for around two years had issues with its charging port for the second time in four months. I went ahead and ordered a phone that we had been eyeing for this scenario, while taking the old phone to a doctor as well. It turned out that issue was with the charger and not the phone which, the tech doctor reassured me, had a healthy life span of at least another year, and we had a second brand new phone worth one-third of my monthly salary on our hands.
Now. He is happy with his old phone and doesn’t particularly care for the new one. My own phone works well enough, although it needs to be hooked up to the wall twice a day to prevent it from dying on me and happens to have a warning label on top telling me it’s dangerously low on space. Not just low, dangerously low.
If common sense prevailed, I would spend no time swapping my current three year old for the flashy newbie, but I’m not able to do it. I feel guilt, of all things. Omg, I’m so middle class.
But, maybe it’s more than that.
I have difficulty reaching for what I want. Sometimes it’s the fear of rejection. Sometimes it’s the overwhelming sense of insecurity or incompetence I feel about myself. Sometimes it’s the voice at the back of my head saying I don’t deserve it. A lot of the time it’s a fear of change.
Well, that got dark quite quickly. *Nervous laugh*
It took me two weeks to even open the package and look at the contents, and they freaked me out so bad that I put them back in again. I wasn’t ready for things that were all pristine and shiny and white. What had I done to deserve them anyway. *Sigh*
A month later, I actually drew up the courage to move on finally, only to realise, as I switched it on, that it has no slot for a memory card and one of the two sim cards is supposed to be virtual. Gaaaaah. This blithering idiot of a machine. I’m a millenial! I’m not supposed to be this bad at handling technology!! Blistering barnacles!!!
(Oh yeah, nothing like a Tintin reference to prove I’m from this century.)
I’m rambling. The truth is, I started this post more than a month ago when inspiration struck, and that specific flash of lightening dissolved into darkness way back. Long story short, I did end up using the phone, but only because the other one finally died on me at a crucial moment with disastrous consequences at the workplace for all involved. But it was still difficult for me to cut the cord, so now I use the new one as a back up, and the old one as a regular.
Yes, now I have TWO phones on my hands that I need to charge and keep track of. So the moral of the story is, maybe I’m the blithering idiot.
P.S. It’s actually not too bad, owning two phones. Texting while on a call has never been easier.