There I was in my office Friday, trying to get out to lunch for crepes. My bike was pissing me off, and I was having a very terrible week. Low and behold, my phone rang while I was covered in bike grease. I pulled it out of my pocket, didn’t recognize the number and threw it. At the floor. In a fit, like a little kid. Of course I broke the damned thing. We’re due for new/free phones anyway, but being without a cell phone is weird. It works, sans speaker and screen. Well, that isn’t working. I can, following my wife’s identical phone, forward my pictures to her. It’s taking a lot time, though. No more fits for me. Not this week. Friday, we’re off to Washington for the weekend, for a Tori Amos concert (my early 30th birthday present). Ordered a new phone tonight, one reviewed well for durability.