I suppose I should simply be appreciative of the fact that it took this long for any of my cell phones to act up, especially given the fact that past models have been dropped, stepped on, lost, and snowplowed.

But I think that’s why I was so angry to discover that my latest phone, acquired in July, had decided to go spastic – all the others had been through the ringer and this one? I’d treated it with care and kindness.

Regardless, it went crazy: freezing, missing calls, dropping signal. The works. So when I took the phone into a Verizon store while visiting family north of Boston (I won’t name locations, but it rhymes with Sanvers), I didn’t know what to expect.

I should have known. I was viewed as someone completely out of her mind for laughing at the fact that the backs of cell phones are considered accessories. I was regarded as someone who was annoying when I explained that “just about everything you could think of” had gone wrong with the phone (I then launched into the multitude of symptoms and tried to be helpful by offering up word that I’d already taken out the battery, repowered it multiple times and tried to reactivate the phone). And I probably came off as a little rude when the technician asked me what my go-to phone number was and I responded with a cyncial laugh and finger pointed at the defective phone.

I never complain to people about things. I could say now that the replacement phone I was shipped today is still plagued by incredibly tinny audio, but I won’t. Why? I’ve been on the other end of the complaints and I know how lousy annoyed customers can be.

But when I’m treated with disdain for having a problem and approaching them? I get angry.

Anyway. Now that I’m reconnected with the outside world, things are fine. Better than fine – the Sox are in preparing for the ALCS and the Yankees organization is taking a long winter’s nap. Good concerts are on the horizon, led by Matt Nathanson at the Roxy on Saturday. Zadie Smith’s “On Beauty” is making for a wonderful read. I made my first batch of southwestern chicken stoup today. Starbucks should soon be offering the maple latte.

My cell phone works. Sort of.

Things are grand.

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