Soldier’s “B”log

00:09:00
“Plosh”, the sound of the phone diving into the crystal clear depth of the toilet bowl. Immediate. Panic. “Man down! Man down! Mayday! May–!” Wait. How can I call for help without my phone?

Julieunscripted and I have often talked about “going off the grid”. We’ve wondered what it would be like to get tiny houses and “live off the land”. Although, I’ve never been as convinced as she is that gridless living is a viable option for us. One main reason, communication. The subject of how we would communicate in the case of catastrophic events – such as a zombiepocalypse – is a frequent visitor in our conversations. To the point that I seriously considered getting us two-way radios and evacuation kits for Christmas – that in itself is proof  that 1.) I should not have watched World War Z, and 2.) someone would make lots of money recording us. Needless to say, a world where Julie and I would not be able to immediately contact each other is not a world we are particularly excited about. Hence why we are still very much on the grid.

Now, back to my cell phone’s brief, but fatal, swim in the toilet and my panicked realization that I am totally disconnected from my world. How can I request for backup? I hate driving without a phone – what if I am ambushed by a flat tire or an accident – how will I call in reinforcement?

00:09:30

Initial panic has morphed into confusion. I’m alone in the concrete jungle of Downtown West Palm Beach. How will I find the rest of my troop for breakfast? I don’t have change. How will I pay for parking if I can’t dial in? Julie had intel about great finds at Stone Button Studio. I wanted to go in and do some reconnaissance. How will I navigate my way around the unfamiliar Northwood territory? Frustration is setting in.

00:12:00
The emergency evacuation team has transported the unresponsive phone to a coma of dry rice. All efforts to resuscitate have failed. Reinforcement will be shipped within 24 Business Hours. Weary inconvenience has set in as I, suffering from post dramatic stress disorder, lie in a vegetative state on my couch. Oh, that would be a great picture. No phone. I should put this funny comment on Twitter. No phone. What’s Julie doing? No phone. I need to set my alarm clock. No phone. What was on my calendar for the rest of the day? No phone. What does Google have to say about this recipe? No phone. Sigh… I should blog about this… No phone.

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