Friendless

Yesterday my right arm was cut off. Not literally of course. France is not a country of barbarians, whatever you might hear.

I lost my mobile phone.

Despite a pretty organised appearance, I do in fact lose things on a fairly regular basis. It all started with a bag at a bus stop. I used to take the bus from the top of my street to school. Packed with sixth formers and kids from another local school, the bus was always full.

One day, at 11 years old, I walked up to the stop armed with Hot Gossip standard issue schoolbag, games kit and violin. How I didn't end up with chronic lower back pain at 30 I don't know. Obviously this load weighed me down somewhat, and it was easy enough, mid-chat, to climb aboard the bus Hot Gossipless. I realised after a few seconds and begged the driver to stop while I ran back (with violin and games kit in tow) to get it. Two minutes later and 2 kilos lighter, a panting red-faced me scrambled back aboard just as the grumpy driver was about to set off without me.

Following the bag at the bus stop incident there were many other occasions. The purse on the bench in St Malo, the keys at work, the keys at home, the scarf in the bar and the top at summer camp. I always seem to have much more important issues to think about than keeping track of my belongings.

I've now realised I left my phone at work on Tuesday, and as I work in different places on different days, I won't get it until tomorrow. I have a dinner arranged for tomorrow and now have no idea if the person is trying to confirm or cancel, or if there are any texts waiting to be read from long-lost friends.

This has also made me see how attached I am to my mobile phone and how absolutely naked I feel without it. Only ten more hours before I can get to it again and probably find the screen exactly how I left it....