It is now five days since I lost my phone.

Five days.

That’s 120 hours.

That’s 7200 minutes.

That’s 432 000 seconds.

That’s at least two phone calls, several text messages and just a whole lot of… having of my phone.

Naturally, being the y-gener that I am, this time has been tough. Especially when all my friends reach for their phones and I am reduced to peering over their shoulders.

But I have now accepted my phoneless state.

“How?” I hear you wonder. “How can a person live without a phone?”

Let me walk you through the roller coaster of emotion…


I was camping during the Easter long weekend when I first realised my phone was missing. I didn’t flinch. I expected it to be sitting in the bottom of my bag like usual. And when it wasn’t there, I figured it would be back in my cabin. And when it wasn’t there I simply began searching the house’s living room.

“It’s got to be here somewhere,” I thought. “It’s somewhere really obvious – I just haven’t looked there yet.”

Then I searched the bathroom, the kitchen and car.

But after 2 hours of turning the house upside down, searching up and down the street and ringing my phone only to go to voicemail, another emotion set in.


The phone was gone. All gone.

I had lost all my contacts, my music, my photos… Everything.

Life as I knew it ceased to exist.

All that was left for me to do was flop miserably on a bed, scream into my pillow and fall into a fitful sleep.

I tried not to think about where the phone was, how much money I was potentially losing and what my mother would say.

This hour was undoubtedly the worst in my life.

But luckily, this emotion soon turned into something quite different.


It’s hard to convey this kind of anger in a blog.

All that is necessary to say is that, if my thoughts were typed up, they would incorporate a lot of bold and capital letters.


Where did I have it last? Who was I messaging? Has someone stolen it? Why would they do that to me? Will I ever see it again? How will I tell my mother? Does my phone have a tracking device? Where is it? How did I lose it?


Now, as you can imagine, I was quite emotionally exhausted by this time. All these emotions had followed each other in such quick succession that barely half a day had passed.

I had left a series of angry, desperate, pleading messages on my own voicemail.

I had turned my room upside down.

I had even asked my friends if they were playing a practical joke on me.

Emotion-wise, I had left hopelessness, anger and confusion behind. I really didn’t have any more emotions to feel. I just felt… Phoneless.

I know that’s not an emotion. But it’s the only way I can describe the mixed feelings that I was experiencing at the time.

So I finally rang mum (with a friend’s phone, of course) and broke the news.

Always priding myself on my tact, I thought the conversation went quite well.

“Hi mum! Yeah, the weekend was great. Really fun. I was going to message you about it today but… I lost my phone.”


I guess you’re all wondering if there is a happy ending to this story. And I’m pleased to report, there is. That night, I got a phone call (once again through a friend’s phone).

A kind stranger, Phil, had found my phone, rung “mum” in contacts and was willing to post my  phonw to me.

Joy of joys!

Relief, energy and happiness flooded my system.



So now, I’m just waiting for the post to arrive. Unfortunately, the long weekend has stopped today’s post from arriving.

That means I must survive another day.

And yet, while I am daunted by the fact I have survived almost a week without my phone, I am also very impressed with myself.

I now know – I can survive anything.




Author’s Note: Okay, I will concede that my hours on Facebook did increase exponentially. But I don’t think that should take away from my achievement.