Last week, I took Tank, the wonder dog with me to pick up lunch while Greg stayed home with the workmen refurbishing our floors.
While I was out, I remembered something I wanted to tell Greg and dug into my purse to phone him. Only I discovered I had left my phone at home.
I was aggravated, upset, and a little worried to be so un-connected. And then I had to laugh. I've spent most of my life without a cell phone. Am I so fragile, that I couldn't manage without one now?
Sure, if the car had given me trouble, like what happened to Greg the week before, I might've been a bit peeved at the inconvenience. But the worst that could've happened is that I'd have to walk to the nearest phone--or because I live in the boonies, I might have to hoof it all the way home.
It's not something I would've wanted to do, especially with an elderly dog, but I would've figured something out.
Are we too dependent on our conveniences? Do you think it makes us softer?
Before cell phones I never used to worry about being connected, now it seems it's a high priority. I'm not sure that's necessarily a good thing.