Bloody Technology

If it wasn’t for smart phones of one sort or another I’m sure I wouldn’t be where I am right now.

I have the fruity one and it’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I can’t help but feel that if it wasn’t so easy and cheap to communicate via these things then I would ne in a different place.

This could be one of several places admittedly. I could still be with my ex-husband, I could have met a new man in real life, or due to the lack of possible electronic communication I may actually be with T.

But it seems T is taking it more and more for granted that he can just pick up his fruity phone and send me a message whenever he feels like it, safe in the knowledge that I will answer pretty rapidly. I’d really love to go back to the days of waiting for a letter in the post. It would be so much more exciting and I’m sure he (and I) would have made much more effort to see each other face to face. (in person I mean, not via Skype!) We’d say so much more.

So we are having an argument this morning, I guess I started it, but he doesn’t help himself by behaving totally out of character which leads me to add 2 and 2 and get 5.  I’m trying to sort it out now, without apologising as I don’t think I have anything to apologise for.  T is a workaholic and I knew this right from the start, so although it keeps us apart I do understand.  The reason for the argument might seem petty to most, but basically it boils down to the fact he has got up a lot later than usual two mornings in a row and went to the Cinema last night with work colleagues (albeit in a different language due to him being abroad), and I got a ‘Good morning babe’ this morning, this probably sounds daft to you, but he hasn’t said ‘good’ with ‘morning’ for a very long time.  So what am I supposed to think?  After all I am his mistress here in the UK, why shouldn’t he have one elsewhere? So I’ve been accused of not trusting him, which I think he has every right to say, but he seems incapable of seeing it from my point of view.

We’ll make up, we always do, neither of us seems capable of not talking to the other (electronically) for longer than a couple of hours.  And we do need each other.

My advice: Don’t fall in love with a married, depressed workaholic.