Jitterbug

Last weekend, I dropped my cell phone.

Actually, it fell out of my purse.

While I was running.

In the pouring rain.

And I didn't notice that it was gone until the next morning. When I found it face down on the front walk. In the rain.

I took it apart and dried it off and hoped for the best and sure enough! It works.

Sort of.

It still makes and receives calls. But the fancy little slide-out keyboard that allowed me to text with the speed and agility of a junior high kid? No longer working. Nor is the volume control.

I can technically live without these features. But considering that we're paying for unlimited texting, it's rather annoying.

Today we were out and about and decided to stop by the Mighty Cell Phone Store to see if they could maybe fix it. No such luck... water damage is an automatic FAIL and even if they could fix it, it would cost $100.

So they wanted us to upgrade.

We started out looking at the newer version of the phone I already have. Seemed fine to me. It was one of the least expensive models.

But then we started talking battery life, touch screen capabilities, the Fancy Super Data Plan and David also doing an upgrade and before I knew what was happening, David wanted to buy $200 cell phones for each of us and upgrade our plan so that it would cost an additional $25 a month.

It was about that point that I started freaking out and saying things like, "Oh, gosh, I just don't know. Gosh."

My stomach started hurting and I suddenly felt the urge to cry because I hate making major decisions about technology and I hate spending large sums of money. Every time we make a major purchase, I cry. Even if I am excited about it! Our car. Our flight to London. Write the check, click "confirm" and then: tears.

It just makes me super anxious. I have no idea why I am such a freak but all of sudden I was totally spazzing in the Sprint store and I felt like an old fogy who couldn't handle new expensive technology and also like I wanted to hyperventilate to think about spending that much money on a stupid phone that doesn't even get service in my basement, windowless office.

At this point, I asked the girl (jokingly) if they had a Jitterbug (you know, the cell phone they make for old people, with big numbers and no extra features).

She didn't laugh. I'm not sure she got the joke. I laughed nervously.

Finally I told David we just had to leave and come back later because I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle investing that much money in a phone, I couldn't handle making the decision without thinking it over.

I think that I am just tapped out at this point. Incapable of functioning under any level of stress, even the most mundane of circumstances. I am still in a holding pattern, waiting to hear from my advisor about whether I am seriously SERIOUSLY finished with the dissertation or if I need to make some final revisions. My grades are completed. My semester is, at long last, finally over.

But instead of feeling totally relaxed, I feel jittery, tense, and hung-over. I am incapable of doing anything but wearing a Snuggie and watching TV or reading Sookie Stackhouse novels. When I fully recover my decision making faculties, I will let you know. Until then, all decisions, beyond what channel to watch, need to be addressed elsewhere.

If you need to reach me, call me on the Jitterbug.