My new mobile phone arrived today, my first new phone for donkey’s years. I cannot begin to tell you how excited I was to remove from its box. I doubt that I was more excited as a child at Christmas, waking up to find Santa Claus had been. In fact, since I decided to order it, I have been on what people call a journey. An emotional journey. I know. It sounds ridiculous.
DPD were due to deliver the phone today so it came as quite a disappointment to learn this morning that the phone was going to be delivered a day late. I would have to struggle on with my old phone, but at least I wouldn’t have to plan my day around an arrival time. Then I did have to plan it. DPD must have had a change of heart and the phone would be there between 13.00 and 14.00. Then, they preceded to deliver it an hour early. D’oh.
I always dreaded having to set up a new phone. It all seemed impossibly complex. But this time, as the panic and anxiety grew, I was able to do most of it myself, albeit with the assistance of my carer, who is better known as my partner. Essentially, the phone did all the heavy lifting, including the transfer of all my music and photos, all on its own. I kept expecting something to go wrong, but it never did. How can technology be so simple to operate?
I am not a techy person, but I do know this is one enormous piece of kit: 512 GBs. To put this number in context, our first home computer, which took up most of the space in the living room, was 3.2GBs. My phone is, to all intents and purposes, a massive computer that fits into my pocket. And I am deeply in love with it.
