When I smashed my phone, I lost part of my brain.
How to cope when your mobile phone is kaput.
It was no ordinary day. I’d crammed too many appointments and hadn’t factored in the soy latte pit stop. But I did a deal with myself to hurry. You’d think I’d have addressed my caffeine addiction before now. After all, some years ago, it came between me and the opportunity to see Barack Obama, but that’s another story. I forged on and parked the car — brilliantly as it turned out — and pretended it was the Universe’s signal to me that everything for at least today, was going my way.
Because as I’ve said, it was no ordinary day. It was the day that the Queensland Writers Centre was announcing the long-list of a writing competition and I was distracted, dreaming about how cool it would be to receive an email from them telling me I’d got through to the next round of their manuscript publishing program.
And that’s when catastrophe befell. While squeezing my credit card out of my bulging phone wallet, I fumbled. My phone slammed face down on the tiled floor. The cafe stilled. I searched a sea of anonymous faces for sympathy, kindness, or commiseration. But no one could meet my gaze.
‘Oh my God!’ said Tom, the barista, who twisted his smile into a grimace.
‘It’s OK. It’s…five years…
