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Cleaning Out My Cell Phone, or A Nervous Breakdown

Yesterday I cleaned out my cell phone.

An odd phrase, I know.

My phone is not fancy, frilly, or fun in any way. It's quite simply a phone, which means that there is a cap on how many numbers I can have in my phone at any given time.

Yesterday, I hit my limit, and so I had to decide who was getting cut from the phone.

Now, at first glance, this would seem like an easy task. I simply had to get rid of the people I don't talk to anymore, right?

Well...if you're a normal person, yes.

If you're an overly sentimental, rationalizing, people-hoarder, then...no.

Guess which one I am?

The first number that seemed like it should go was a friend I haven't talked to in over a year.

But then I thought, what if I need to get in touch with them all of a sudden? What if I feel the urge to reconnect? What if I remember that I loaned them my copy of Double Indemnity and I need it back?

That's when my inner Devil's Advocate kicked in:

Devil's Advocate Argument: You're friends with them on Facebook. If you need to get in touch with them, just message them.

But by that logic, I could get rid of almost EVERYBODY in my phone.

So I guess it could be a question of who I would need to get in touch with right away.

Well, I thought, my friend lives inPhiladelphia now. What if I'm ever in Philadelphia and I need a place to stay?

Devil's Advocate: Why would you be in Philadelphia?

What if I find out that I have a long-lost relative in Philadelphia and I get there only to discover that all the hotel rooms in town are booked because there's a Hall and Oates reunion concert in town?

Devil's Advocate: I'm not even going to justify that with a response.

Soon, I was making arguments for keeping every number and subsequently dismantling those arguments.

Argument: Get rid of the number for that pizza place I ordered from once.

Counter: I may want to get pizza from there again.

Argument: You can call 4-1-1.

Counter: That's a waste of money.

Argument: THIS IS A WASTE OF TIME!

Finally, I gave up, and wrote down all the numbers in my phone in a little book, and deleted the numbers that weren't essential.

Now, instead of a full cell phone, I have a half-full cell phone and a little book that I guard like a small child in case I ever want to get in touch with my dead grandfather's landlord.

That's reasonable, right?

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