My alarm cheerfully–maybe too cheerfully–signaled the start of a new day, and I slapped the snooze. Grabbing my phone, I began the daily scroll through news and notifications. Nothing like getting the blood pressure spiked before getting out of bed. Only today, what caused my alarm was not the latest shenanigans in DC or the recent COVID numbers, it was that my phone was at 10%.
How can this be? I mused. My phone was on the charger all night. I plugged my phone in. Nothing. I pulled the charger out, flipped it over, plugged it back in, and nothing. I hopped out of bed, padded into the family room, and tried another charger. Nothing. I wiggled the charging cord, got the buzz of the start of a charge, then nothing. Now I was starting to panic.
It’s not that I need my phone–okay, maybe I do have a Candy Crush addiction–but I need my phone for my drive to work. I need my phone to listen to my podcasts. I was in the middle of an episode of What Should I Read Next. I didn’t have enough charge for my phone to last longer than it took to pull out of the driveway.
I continued fussing and fretting, grabbing one charging cord and then another. Fiddling with it this way and that way. Finally, I was able to get the charge up to about 15%. But still that wasn’t going to work. I left the phone completely still on the ottoman as I hastily got ready for work. Messing with the phone had simply made me late. And now I was uncharged and late. Not an auspicious way to start the day.
After getting ready, I double-checked my bag–wallet, i.d., keys, mask (I’m habitually forgetting something)–I grabbed my phone from the charger. It was at a whopping 21%. Out of the red, but just barely. I said goodbye to the dog, told her I loved her and to be good, and headed to the car.
After I turned the car on and got settled, I plugged in the phone. And held my breath. Suddenly the Apple Car Play message popped up on the screen. I waited a minute. The phone connected. Anne Bogel’s voice came through my speakers. I let out a screech of joy, put the car in reverse, and backed out of the driveway.
As I carefully drove around the newly developed potholes on the road to work to avoid jostling the phone and losing the charge, I was able to relax into the podcast. If I couldn’t read while I drove to work, at least I could listen to people talk about books and add new titles to my TBR.
I arrived at work with my head full of new books to check out, my heart dreaming of story, and my phone mostly full of charge.
