A problem with my phone

In the olden days, before Microsoft took over a large chunk of that world, there were lots of different interfaces to computers. Nearly all, in my case, involving screens, but lots of differences otherwise. And sometimes, not recently, I have had dreams about getting put in front of a computer which I used to know well, but no longer knew at all. I had completely forgotten how to drive it. Maybe not a complete blank, but not enough to start the thing up, get into gear and move off.

Then last night, or rather early this Sunday morning, it was the turn of the telephone, of which I have also had several over the  years. I was vaguely at work and I needed to use the phone. At that point, I had this large telephone, rather like the sort of thing they use to take your money in restaurants, bars and shops. Large and chunky, perhaps like the one snapped above.

But despite it having a button which clearly said telephone - or rather icon'd telephone - I couldn't make it work. It clearly did work and it was near enough working to be very frustrating. All very tiresome.

Then despite all kinds of important things going on, I left the building and tried to get it to work in a bit of a garden outside. At least there was a bit of space and it was relatively quiet. But which turned out to belong to some kind of university, into which, somehow or other I got swept. Found myself in the middle of a tutorial or seminar. Lots of young people. A serious young lecturer.

I decided I needed to get home and that I needed to be met with all my luggage at the station. Luggage which had appeared from somewhere. But despite continuing to fiddle with the telephone I still could not get it to work and I could not phone ahead.

Somehow got onto the train with all sort of luggage. Continued to fiddle with the phone and my luggage starts to come open and get into a muddle.

I get dumped out on the platform of the station after mine. Lots of people milling about. Lots of luggage lying about. Mine all mixed up with it. A duffel coat in a puddle by a lamppost which a young lady puts on, telling me that I have already got a coat and don't need this one too.

BH turns up with a car, which looks more like an old-fashioned tubular bedstead, complete with a white, candlewick bedspread. Load all the luggage up onto it. Most but not all of it mine. Some of it in plastic shopping bags, some of it in rather tatty suitcases. Regular bag person. I am still holding the offending telephone and I still can't get it to work.

Tell myself that I shall abandon work for the day and spend some quality time getting to grips with it.

At about which point, I must have woken up. Quite relieved not to be having such complicated problems with my telephone. Which is now being charged up for the day in the usual way.