the unbearable emptiness...

...of rushing out of the house in a flurry and realizing when one is halfway to work, that one has, indeed, left one's cell phone at home.

Ackthppppffffth! I drove the rest of the way down to the vastness of the South Bay spluttering and enduring a vague emptiness brought on by this very realization. the emptiness moved from vague, to annoying, to unendurable. I feel lost, cut off, and alone. I even toyed with the idea of getting one of those "go" phones, just for the interim.

It's made the day all the longer, being cut off from civilization in the form of microchips and staticky microphones. I don't even get that many calls. In fact, I dread getting calls. You never know when some ichor dripping fiend may get a hold of your phone number (or remember it from your dating fiasco of a few months ago) and call you up to ask why you never called him back.

But the chiefest part of my unending discomfort at being so ungracefully separated from my little commlink, is that I'm terrified now that my car will develop a leak, a fire, or an unavoidable attraction to passing alien ships. What would I do if I got hit in the windshield, carjacked (like anyone would want my car!) or horrors, a flat tire. I can just picture my helpless self, stranded on the 280, blonde hair whipped in a froth around my head, praying for a phone, esp, or just a nice person.

Ah, me. My life is so hard.