I lost my cell phone one day last week.
And the Earth stood still.
It was the wee hours of the morning Wednesday when I made the discovery that this little modern device of many conveniences was playing hide and go seek with me, and I was the one doing all the seeking after having "hidden" it very well.
I was getting ready to leave for work when I realized it wasn't anywhere in plain sight.
I figured I must have put it in one of the compartments of my purse, which has a little cell phone pocket especially for it.
But, of course, I don't put it there, because that would make too much sense.
I just usually toss it in my purse or stuff it in my coat pocket.
I fished through the entire contents of the shoulder bag in which I lug around my life, and it was not there - not after I searched once, then again, and once or twice more for good measure.
No cell phone.
Well, I say to myself in a dazzling display of a.m. disgust, now what?
Then it occurs to me.
I know - I'll call myself, follow the ringy-dingy, find my phone, and all will be well.
Suddenly my enthusiasm wanes like a balloon fast deflating of the hot air that gave it all its bounce and bouyancy.
I don't know my number.
How sad is that?
I have had several cell phones in recent years, and I have refused to commit to memory any of the numbers.
When I've needed to find out for whatever reason, I've looked up the number on the cell phone.
Now it's not an option. Duhh.
So I have to place a call on a land line and ask, hey, do you have my cell phone number, handy?
It's an odd question to ask, akin to consulting with someone else for your personal information, your Social Security number, your shoe size, your address.
I get my number and call myself, too proud to admit I've "misplaced" my phone.
I've no sooner dialed my own number then I realize my cell phone isn't turned on. Or it's run out of juice.
Well, so much for my super sparkly morning mood.
I look everywhere on every surface and in every pocket and any place?I can think of to find my phone, feeling panicky at the thought of being without it.
I mean I'm actually going to have to drive to work without a phone like back in the old days when I was a teenager and young adult before there even were cell phones.
I'll have a flat tire for sure, the Ms. Paranoia in me surfaced as I headed off on my morning commute.
I made it OK.
But I'm still looking for that phone, and thinking sooner or later, I'll find it.
"Call" me an optimist.
(Kiaski, a resident of Steubenville, is a staff columnist and features writer for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times and community editor for the Herald-Star. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)