Where, oh where, is my cell phone? I panicked, as I was dressed and ready to walk out the door for my early morning 5-mile hike. Dial the number and follow the ring I told myself. There it is, faint, maybe the balcony. As I rushed to the balcony, it got louder and louder, then stopped before I could find it. It's o:dark:thirty in the morning, the light's blown out, and I can't see a thing out here.
Well, it's here somewhere. Dial the number again and surely, I'll find it next try. After all, I’m already on the balcony - right. There it goes - darn, it's right here somewhere, maybe it fell between the walls. I lean down and look under the table in the corner and it gets really loud before it turns off again.
Rats, I was really close. One more try, and I'm rearranging furniture chasing the elusive ring tones. I'm about to try one more time, when my pocket starts beeping loudly at me. I reach in to retrieve my errant cell to find I have 3 missed calls.
I really need to drink a serious cup of coffee before my morning walk.
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