'Ping.'
'Is that yours or mine?'
'Mine I think.' I creak my way up onto an elbow and reach over Dave's arm to my phone on the coffee table. My magical marvellous i-phone. My little piece of beautiful tech through which all things are possible.
Did you know there's an app to find the nearest ATM or nearest loo in the confusing streets of a new town? Then there is Skype and Messenger that lets me talk real time, for free, to my sister in Michigan. There's even a Metronome App that Dave found when he realised I couldn't keep time either when playing my Ukulele!
'Either?' I had asked a bit disappointedly.
And of course Internet browsing and email, all on a wondrous object that fits in my pocket.
'Shall I put the TV on hold?'
'No no. It's only an email from Tracy!' With half an eye on 'QI' I open it.
Big mistake! 'Oh poop.... It's one of those.' I can't repeat what I said next just in case I have to read this to the U3A group!
'Too late,' Dave commented helpfully.
And so the inevitable happened . . . a barrage of emails from friends thanking me for infecting them! One lazy moment and my life was tipped upside down. Firstly I had to spend a whole day tediously running Malware and virus check updates on all our tech, i-phones, Smart tablet, and two lap tops.
'You will need to delete your Yahoo address book too,' says the wise one. I lugged out the printer so I could print off all my emails addresses first. Oh goody, no paper left. Tesco's then for more paper, another half day lost because you can't go in Tesco's and not shop!
'Delete email addresses in your phone contact list, you must,' adds Yoda.
Another hour of my life lost forever going through all the entries for each number. An infinitely tedious way to spend an hour you won't get back.
Finally I decided to post a contrite status on Facebook apologising to those already infected and warning all others not to open any dodgy emails from me. A few choice comments followed but all in all not too bad.
Did I mention that while lugging my lap top around the fan broke? So then it kept crashing after two minutes due to overheating. It is now in a PC repair shop. The nice young man reassured me, 'Yes, if it is the fan we can fix it . . . Probably.'
'How much?'
'Mmmm well that depends.'
'I have an old laptop you can use for your writing,' Dave offered helpfully. 'I got it at a boot sale,' he adds worryingly. 'Do you know where the letters are on the keyboard 'cos the keys are a bit worn?'
Finally I set aside all day Wednesday to write my most creative piece ever. I take extra care on the wind-up lap top, pressing 'save' every time I got up to make a coffee. By 5 o'clock I powered down happy that my creative juices had found form at last and in good time.
So why then, at 9 o'clock that evening, did I decide to open up my Pulitzer Prize winning story to proof read?
'Ping, do you want to replace this document with the most recent one found?'
'Yes please.'
'Where's it gone?' I shout. It turns out I have just replaced my story with an empty document. 'Nope. There is no timed back up, Dave. No, Dave, trust me I have looked. I have wiped it. It's gone, it is no more. It is a deceased story.'
I hadn't the heart to re-do what has been lost to the world forever. So my story this week has been cancelled due to the work of pure evil. The i-phone, an instrument of the Devil that should not be trusted under any circumstance.
Bloody thing!