But I have a cell phone.
But I don't use it.
Well, I use it when I want to use it.
But no one has the number.
Well, my husband has the number and so does anyone who has my children when I don't.
I don't have the number memorized.
But it is written on blue painters' tape and taped to the back of the phone.
I don't check messages.
I often forget to turn it on when I say I will.
I like not being able to be reached.
But I like having a way to call someone should I need help.
I don't text.
But I feel a little sorry for folks when they text my home phone and I never get the message.
But not bad enough to consider learning to text.
I don't want a smart phone.
I'm already on my computer more than necessary.
I don't want to be lured out of reality more than I'm already lured.
My reality needs me.
I don't want a cell phone.
But it kind of feels like I'm the only one.
For those of you with questions:
1) No, I shouldn't start sentences with the word "but". But I like to anyway.
2) Yes, I always let my husband know where I'm going in case I forget to turn my phone on.
3) I have an old model tracfone that I spent about $30 on. Each month, for $10 I get continued service and a bunch of minutes I never use. Cell phone tip: a phone that's rarely used looks new for a very long time.
4) When our kids learn to drive, they will get a nifty tracfone, too.