Saturday, 13 February 2010

I put my husband's mobile phone through the washing machine.

He never keeps it in his pocket, but somehow it ended up there.

I started to unload the washing machine. I took out some stuff and it was just there. He hadn't even noticed it was missing. It was flashing up 'Insert SIM'; the camera's flash was stuck on. Lighting up the inside of the machine.

He was OK about it. Said it was just one of those things. It wasn't my job to check his pockets, he should do that himself.

Me? I got the rice out straight away, emptied it into a bowl as D took the phone apart. It's sitting in the bowl of rice now, waiting for us to see if it's going to recover. Time will tell, I suppose.

After that, I told him I was sorry, again. He said it was OK. Yes, honestly. Again.

Then I went through to our bedroom, grabbed a pillow, and started to cry. Hysterically.

I felt so stupid. I felt like it proved that I should never be trusted. Who would trust me with a baby? I put my husband's phone through the washing machine. What kind of idiot does that?

And - I felt (still feel) like I killed the phone. Like it didn't understand what had happened. Its flash was stuck on, white light lighting up the drum of the machine. Saying 'insert SIM'.

Like it was my fault.

Like I hurt it without meaning to.


It's possible that this wasn't entirely to do with the phone.


I cried hysterically for nearly an hour.

D didn't realise at first. He was hoovering, so he didn't hear. He didn't realise what was going on until he finished and I wasn't there. He came to find me, and held me and murmured soothingly to me. Sat with me until I could manage to breathe normally again.

I told him after a while, when I could just about speak, that I realised my reaction was completely out of proportion to the possible death of a mobile phone.


My doctor said on Thursday that she had thought it was a little early for me to go back to work.

I'm starting to think that maybe she was right.


I'm back now, though. So I'll just warn TPTB that I am still pretty much an emotional wreck and hope for the best.


biojen said...

Yeah, that probably wasn't about the phone. I hope it gets easier, I'm thinking of you.

B said...

thanks jen. you too.

Alice Turing said...

Yes, sometimes our reactions are little to do with events themselves!

I felt devastated at first, particularly as my partner proclaimed it was just about the worst possible thing that could have happened, and we were at the time packing for our hols, and I was convinced the whole holiday would be ruined as a result. This was only a week or so after leaving my job, and I'd been feeling pretty all right about it all, but I suddenly thought "Oh God, here we go, that was just a honeymoon and now my whole life - and my partner's - is going to go horribly wrong." I was lucky though, I managed to spot the downward spiral and force some positive thoughts back into my head. Not long after, we were all in the car and excited about our holiday, which turned out to be a really good one (camping in the lakes, oodles of low-budget fun). The phone was taken apart and served on a bed of rice, just like yours. Sadly it didn't recover. The world hasn't ended.