Once Upon a Time

This past Monday, I went to work - a common, if not always consistent, occurrence for me. But nothing about Monday's trip was common. For you see, on Monday I forgot my cell phone.

It was such a silly mistake. I left it sitting on my dresser instead of tucking it safely inside my purse or a pocket, as I usually do as soon as I wake up. And I, absent-minded goof that I am, never grabbed it. It's such an appendage to my being these days that I realized it was missing before I even got on the highway. I was just barely going to be on time for my class as it was, though, and could not turn around to retrieve it.

I was on my own. And this is a brief summary of the events that followed, complete with my thoughts at the time:

I got onto 495W at approximately 2:50 p.m., and immediately encountered a little bit of back-up from afternoon traffic. Oh shit, what if traffic is bad the whole way there? What if I'm running late and I can't call the school to let them know? The slowness soon eased, and I was cruising down the highway on my way to Travilah Elementary School in North Potomac. I arrived with just enough time to set up my classroom before my students started arriving. Is that clock correct? I wish I had my cell to tell me the exact time. I hope I'm not late bringing them out to their parents. Class lasted for an hour, and by 4:45, I was out of work and on my way to my friend Jescie's house, to meet up with her and go for Cold Stone.

Now here's where things got sticky. I was supposed to call Jescie once I left work and was on my way to her place. I had gotten directions from google maps, and was to let her know exactly what time I'd be getting there. Obviously, this was no longer an option, and I was just going to have to show up unannounced.

I hit the road, encountered no traffic, and was making good time. What if Jescie tried to change plans? What if she's not at her house when I get there, because I never called her? Well I can just get in touch with my roommate and ask her if I have any messages! Oh... wait. No I can't - I don't have my phone. Anyways, stop being silly. Of course she'll be home, she got your facebook message saying you'd be there between 5:15 and 5:30. Upon getting off 370, I discovered that google maps hadn't prepared me for the fork at Shady Grove Road, so I picked the most logical direction and kept driving. Oh geez, what if I get lost and can't call her for directions? My logic was rewarded when I easily found my next turn What if she's not home? What am I going to do? Oh my gosh, calm yourself, OF COURSE she'll be home, and I was at her house even earlier than I expected.

I walked up the sidewalk to the front door. The house looks awfully dark. Maybe she's not home from school yet. I did get here a few minutes before I said I would. I rang the doorbell, but no one answered. I knocked on the garage door. Nothing. I walked around to the back of the house, but the snow was undisturbed. Oh this figures. What do I do now? So I returned to my car to wait for her. Luckily, I had a book with me, and I read for 10 minutes before getting out and repeating my knocking and ringing. This is the right house, isn't it? Still nothing. Surely she'll drive up any minute now, and I'll feel foolish for worrying so much. I returned to my car and read for another 20 minutes. She's going to think I ditched out on our plans! The house was still dark. No new cars had pulled up. I was cold, getting hungry, and I couldn't call Jescie to let her know that I was at her house. Oh hey! I'm not far from Olney, and David is still at work. I can use their phone to... crap, I don't know Jescie's number! Dammit! I felt terrible about it, but I didn't know what else to do. I left.

I drove to Olney Theatre, but David didn't have Jescie's cell number. I still had an hour before I had to leave for my rehearsal, so we got a bite to eat and some hot chocolate. I was stewing in my own guilt, but the night had to go on, and so I started driving toward Bowie. Oh shoot, did I leave too late? I won't be able to call our stage manager and let him know! I arrived just in time, rehearsed, and finally, after 7 cellphone-less hours, headed home.

As soon as I got in, I called Jescie and apologized profusely. As it turns out, she had been home the whole time. She and her boyfriend live in the basement of the house, and have a separate entrance. She had wondered if I'd forgotten my phone, and even considered driving out to Cold Stone to see if I'd gone there. Had she come out to her car, she would have seen me sitting out front. We both laughed and apologized and made the same plans for next Monday.

Here's the thing though. In case you didn't catch on to the frenzied tone in my thoughts above, I was absolutely panicked for the majority of my time without my phone. My plans hinged on making a phone call. Without it, I was at a loss. But once upon a time (even 10 years ago), here's how our outing would have happened:

I would have picked up the landline at my house and called the landline at Jescie's.

Me: Hey Jescie, I'll be near your house next Monday! Want to meet up and get that Cold Stone?

J: Sure, sounds great! What time do you think you'll be there?

Me: Sometime between 5:15 and 5:30 depending on traffic.

J: Okay, do you need directions?

Me: Yeah, can you tell me the best way to get there from North Potomac?

J: (Gives directions) And so you know, the entrance to our place is on the left side of the house. You know what, I'll just be waiting outside for you at 5:15 so I can show you in.

Me: Great, thanks! See you then!

And I would have seen her then.

Easy. Simple. Direct. Complete.

Because once upon a time, we made complete plans before hitting the road. Once upon a time, we memorized our friends' phone numbers. Once upon a time, I didn't need total contact with everyone I know in order to function.

Sure, cell phones are great. In an emergency I feel much more secure and taken care of. But my gosh, I remember a time when I didn't have to rely on one. And sometimes I think that wasn't such a bad thing.

Worst. Present. Ever.

Hello globe.

I haven't been sleeping much recently, which I mostly attribute to my ridiculous work schedule. I've recently been switched to the midnight-8am shift, and occasionally the 4am-noon shift, and my body just isn't cooperating. Today, on Christmas, I actually had a 9am-5pm day, a wonderful change of pace. Kind of fun hanging out with a newsroom of Jews actually. If ever there was a day to claim that Jews control the media, it's on Christmas, because that's the day we actually do. But hey, not our fault all the Christians took off today. Tomorrow though, it's back to the 4am-noon shift, and back to struggling with sleep.

If only the cure for lack of sleep were silver dollars. But alas, they probably are not, so my struggles continue. Yes yes, I'll explain.

This is the first time.. ever.. that I won't be home for Christmas/Hanukkah and all that. In fact, all three of my roommates left for home this week, so I'm home alone to myself. It's kind of strange, but I'm trying to enjoy it. Tuesday night I spent the evening sipping hot tea, eating cookies dunked in hot chocolate, eating home-made (but not too dry) falafel with hummus, and watching college basketball (Butler upset Xavier) and a movie (One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest). Last night on Christmas eve, I got drunk on sangria with my friend SamLaz at La Tasca in Chinatown and went to bed early. Christmas time is an interesting time of the year for a Jew.

For instance, this past weekend I went to an "ugly Christmas sweater party," and also passed up an invitation to go to another one. I actually kind of like the idea of these parties... they're silly but sweet and innocent. Like puppies. Like WALL-E. I realized very quickly though that Christians actually own these sweaters, actually receive them as a gift, and I'd have to hit up the Value Village in College Park to fulfill my ultimate dreams.

"Ha ha ha," I laughed to myself (that's me, laughing to myself out loud) and thought about how much that would suck to get an ugly-ass, totally unwearable, comically emasculating sweater on what could have been the happiest day of the year.

But then I thought about Hanukkah. And I stopped laughing.

Now, I'll warn you, the follow piece of information might sound cute at first, but really it's just as sad those Christmas sweaters.

Every year, for Hanukkah, my grandpa gives me, my brother, and my two cousins each a single silver dollar. And a card. I think he takes a great deal of pride in those silver dollars. In fact, I don't think he goes to the bank to get them every year. I think he's had them piled in the top drawer of his dresser for years. I'm serious. My two cousins are now in their thirties, and my brother and I are 19 and 22. That's a lot of silver dollars. I've actually saved as many of these silver dollars as I can. At last count, I think I had about 14. This will be the first year I won't get one. It's kind of sad in a way.

EXCEPT I DON'T WANT AN EFFING SILVER DOLLAR FOR HANUKKAH AS MUCH, MAYBE MORE, THAN YOU DON'T WANT ANOTHER EFFING UGLY CHRISTMAS SWEATER.

My cousin Marti suggested that maybe sending me a silver dollar from our grandfather would make me feel better. Or that maybe when my family comes down to visit me in DC from NJ that they bring the silver dollar with them (I got this text from my mom last week: "we r coming to visit u dec 27.28 wkend like it or not here we come with the latkes!!" Who doesn't love texts from parents? C'mon. Anyway, I got them to push it back another week.)

So the question dawned on me. Which is worse: getting an ugly Christmas sweater or a silver dollar?

The answer is very obvious of course. Because silver dollars do not, in fact, cure sleep deprivation.

Merry Christmas everyone.