Don’t know how I managed it, but I walked out the door today without my cell phone.
I don’t know if it’s more true for guys (who tend to do belt and pocket kind of carrying) than gals, but I have little internal alarms that o off when I don’t have part of my “kit” on me. Wallet, keys, cell phone — not to mention watch and ring and even my little pedometer. I tend to do an automatic pat-down when I go from place to place, especially if that niggling “there’s something missing here” picks at me.
The mechanism failed today, alas — no cell phone.
Margie calls me up on my land line. “I have your brain here.” Heh. It’s true — it’s not just my cell phone, but (as a Treo) my PDA, too, which means my contact list and to do list and calendar and all that good stuff. It’s all synced (quite intentionally) from my PC, so as long as I’m in front of my laptop it’s not a huge issue. But I’ll be definitely, absently, patting down my left hip when I’m walking at lunch today …