Grief and Loss

I lost my iphone today.  Or more specifically, I lost it last night, somewhere between the Starbucks on Exposition, and the HEB on Oltorf.  I've called both places, turned my car and my house upside down, had people call my phone while I did both things -- it's gone.  All day I've had this sick feeling, which I just recently realized was grief.  I've had that thing --

That dash was exactly how far I got when Aimee called on Jackson's phone.  She had texted my phone saying "Please call this number if you find this phone," and I asked her to call me via Jackson's phone if anyone contacted her.  Someone just did -- from a blocked number -- and asked her how much money she would be wiling to pay to get her phone back.  CAN YOU BELIEVE IT???  They said they found it at HEB. Thinking quick, she said $50, which is exactly what I would have said.  But how in the world would such a thing be arranged?  My guess is they'll figure that out and I'll never hear from them again.

It is ridiculous, the kind of pain I'm feeling at the thought of my beloved iphone in the hands of such a lowlife.

It was so hard walking tonight without it.  No way to monitor the time, no tunes, no podcasts.  Banks and I walked all the way to 35, then back through St. Ed's, thinking at least I could use the tower clock to gauge my time, but I never heard it go off.  As we walked, I composed some thoughts in my head, trying to be philosophical about my loss.  Maybe I could blog about how freeing it felt to be unwired for a change!  Or how "in the moment" you have to be when there's no way to reach out to anyone else.  But I couldn't do it.  Well, I could have, but it would have been just so much b.s.  I love my phone.  I miss my phone.

It's going to be hard to sleep tonight.