My husband’s job takes him away from home at least one night a week. It sucks, besides missing him, because it throws off our rhythm and routine. This week, however, he’s away all week.
It’s tough the first day, knowing he’s hauling long miles to Richmond, and my guts twinge about the possibility of having an accident. When I don’t hear from him after work, I figure he may be tied up with coworkers and will touch base after dinner.
I run my errands after leaving a voicemail. I arrive back and check my phone again, but still nothing. My thoughts begin to wander to the possible worst case scenario. When I begin to get sleepy, I decide to text once more letting him know I’m heading off to bed.
I retype the message several times, trying to phrase it with usual non-concerned cheer, but also identifiable information that should his cell phone be presently in the hands of a emergency worker. Turning in that night, I had a bit more trouble sleeping.
I roll over in the morning and my heart sinks. My phone has no new messages. This can’t be right. It’s not like him not to text at all. Could my crappy cell phone really just not have received any messages? I turn the officially crappiest cell phone off and back on again.
It takes nearly five minutes to complete this process. It may not sound like a lot, but count to 300 Mississippi and tell me that’s not a long wait to figure out if you have new messages. Eventually the device comes back online and he did text me. He got back around 11:30, which is totally fine.
What is not fine, however, is this crappy phone didn’t tell me. What else is this thing keeping from me? I think that this is my phone’s idea of a prank, and it’s not funny. Frankly, I am beginning to think that this isn’t going to work out. I know I’ll have to pay through the nose, but it may be time for a new phone.