Cell phones: can’t live with them, used to get along perfectly well without them.
My husband decided he needed a cell phone because he was trying to continue some consulting after he started his last job, and it was a little inefficient for people to call our house asking about consulting and have me tell them he would call back that night (for the things that couldn’t be done by email, which apparently exist even in high-tech consulting.) I could have held out a little longer against the cell-phone trend, but figured if he was getting one, I would too.
Of course, he gave up the consulting shortly thereafter, but it was convenient to have the cell phones to communicate while at work (Spring Town is a long-distance call from Our Fair City), and it’s always nice to have a cell while travelling. I was very glad to have one when I did my ivf cycles, not only because it was cheaper to talk to Mr. Luo than using a calling card, but because it made it easier to talk to the clinic, especially the first time when I was staying with relatives and didn’t want to depend on their answering machine to catch the daily afternoon call with instructions, not to mention other sundry communications during the cycle.
Today, on Day 38 of the cloned-cell-phone cycle, I called my provider to learn that nothing had happened since I called at the end of December. (That was the call in which the customer service representative promised to call me every day to update me. She called once. I don’t really need to hear every day that nothing has happened, but I am a little tired of unfulfilled promises at this point.)
However, they did switch my phone to a new telephone number so that I could have the use of it while high-up people continue to dilly-dally.
I would be much more distraught over this if it had happened during an ivf cycle, or if I had been travelling in December and January (this is the first year in living memory that I have not travelled over winter break, and by living memory I mean “since I left home to go to college”).
Nevertheless, at this point, I end up crying everytime I have to talk to the cell phone company.
Despite the amazing new ability to use my cell phone, I am just about fed up. After 10 years and one month (NOTE TO SELF: add “shred utility bills from 10 years ago” to to-do list) as a long distance and two years as a cell phone customer, I am contemplating a big good-bye to the feel-good phone company that uses recycled paper and donates to progressive causes and sends me ice cream coupons in my bills. I can make my own donations, sign up for paperless bills, and maybe even get a cell phone that works in my office at the university. Though, not apparently, at my mother’s place, because only one provider works there, and everybody (including Moxie) hates them.
