1. Lose your phone. This is undoubtedly the best part of the process, so I advise you enjoy it.
2. Berate yourself over it for at least 2 weeks. After all, the last time you lost a phone, it was a brick-sized Nokia, and your mom found it under the seat of her minivan 20 minutes later. This “smartphone” shit is decidedly more damaging to your finances – especially since your finances can’t even be called “finances” with a straight face until the Financial Aid Fairy intervenes.
3. Sheepishly discover you could actually get a replacement phone for free. This information was in something called a “contract”, which you were apparently supposed to read before signing.
Still, no problem! Your friendly phone company Customer Service Representative is happy to assure you he just needs the case number for your lost phone, and he’ll send you the replacement in a jiffy!
… you did file a case with the police department, right?
4. Spend as many days as humanly possible making up excuses for why you cannot go to the police department, because, c’mon – who wants to go to a police station? Who wants that to be on their daily to-do list? Especially to get a case number for the extremely professional reasons of “losing phone while drunk at bar.”
5. Listen to the police officer explain that 2 months is a little late to report a lost phone. Especially when you lost it in another county entirely. Agree with him that, yes, that would be logical, to a logical person.
6. Flirt with police officer. Obtain case number. Mentally apologize to feminist forebearers who are undoubtedly glowering down at you from Liberal Heaven. Remind yourself that you make up for this by always asking your patients very progressive questions like, “Do you have sex with men, women, or both?” and occasionally wearing a little rainbow caduceus pin.
7. Get new phone in mail! SUCCESS! All one needs to do now is charge it for 18 hours, then call the convenient number on the packaging that you just threw away!
8. Turns out you only use your phone for e-mail and medical apps, so you forget to find the packaging and call the number to activate it. Whatever. It’s fine.
9. Realize it’s been 1 month and you have not activated your phone. It just, sort of… seemed like an improvement to not get interrupted constantly by the “pay attention to me!” ringing thing it does, you know?
10. Okay, fine. Interrupted intermittently by the “pay attention to me!” ringing thing it does. God.
11. Finally call activation number, though only after actually asking someone to call you without realizing it will in no way work.
12. Fail. It has been too long. You only get some weird recording about being “unable to reach” the phone company, presumably because they are all too busy laughing. This happens 4 days in a row. You have missed your chance.
13. Congratulations! You are now a Phoneless Person.
Good luck explaining this to any of your friends without scrunching up your face and getting confused about how to explain any of it without resorting to the elegant phrase, “Well – you see – it’s like this: I am an idiot.”
Smartphones are the devil.
I’m officially phoneless too! I left my phone somewhere and I didn’t bother searching for it because I’m getting way more done than I ever have before in the school dept. Albeit I think I’m turning into an antisocial freak but on the upside I can still order in food due to my handy laptop. And lets face it that’s all I need.
“especially since your finances can’t even be called “finances” with a straight face until the Financial Aid Fairy intervenes.”
There are little moments where I feel crazy and silly and completely alone in this crazy thing I’ve decided to do. And then there are moments when I realize I’m not alone and there are other people are out there waiting for her too…
Good luck with the phone thing. Hope you find your zen state of phoneness. 😉