I lost my mobile phone. It happened somewhere between getting off the train at Kings Cross and sitting on a an underground tube train, Northern Line. I carried my phone over 400 miles only to then lose it on the last few miles of my journey. When I got home my head was buzzing with what I needed to do. What I should do. I had considered ringing the phone, but there was no guarantee it would be answered. I thought at this very moment whoever had found it could be ringing up their long lost relatives in Australia and having a reunion chat. All at the expense of my next phone bill. So the first thing was to get the SIM card cancelled and so I rang my mobile operator, they did this immediately and also were able to disable the phone from being used. It was a relief and if anyone had used it they may of had about an hour of possible phone time to say hello and chat about the weather. I'm now disappointed because the phone was a photo album of people, places and events. I would look at them every now and again and smile. I would laugh at a video I had taken when drunk in a kitchen with Sparkling and L & B man conversing over the culinary delight of a meal. He called it "pish" and pulled a face like he was about to puke. Someone farted. Not me. We were all relaxed and happy. So understandably I was a bit annoyed at the lost memories. Oh how important it is to back up your data, even if it is on a phone.
Lucky my head is screwed on, at least that is something I'll not lose so quickly, I wish I could say the same for my memory and my waist line.
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