I left my phone in the office

It was not there.

Just like those moments of panic. In that moment, you don’t care who is around you, what is around you…because suddenly an important part of you is missing. Whatever was planned in the next few minutes, next hour…does not compare to the fact that a part of you is missing.

You recall the last time you used it. Your fingers sliding over the smooth glass, a gesture that tells the processor embedded there to do something. To show you the mysteries behind the glass. Perhaps you nod silently to some communication sent to your eyes. And you press something again on the object…now putting the object in your back pocket, your desk or your bag.

But was it your bag?

You were so distracted when a colleague came in to make a request. You try to meet the request, but you have to go. Did you put it in your bag? Your pocket? You are unsure.

And there, far away from where you once were 30 minutes you go, you check your pockets again, your bag, the empty spot where it was supposed to be.

And it’s as if your heart is stolen from you. This is where you start making sacrifices, compromises, amends. I’ll do anything to get you back! you think. You are apologizing profusely in your mind—angry that you made the mistake. I’ll never leave you again.

A plan is set in motion. Now you’re worried that the vulnerability of your accounts. Now you think about how to get to the store. Now you think about the cost. You always had an emergency fund for idiocy every year, right?

Hopefully now, your panic is appeased slightly.

But you need to know where it is. You call upon the generosity of those around you. They help you. And it’s located, the missing part of you.

And all your plans halt…because you finally know where your phone is.

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