You know when you’re with a group of friends and there’s always that one person that gets the “What time is it?” question addressed solely to him or her by others because they know that s/he has an iPhone in an easy-access pocket?
I’m that person minus the iPhone. I wear a wristwatch — my running watch to be specific.
It’s the first thing I put on in the morning when I wake up, sometimes even before my glasses! I shower with it so I don’t take too long of showers, or just to know what time it is while I’m cleansing. Unlike people who may forget their cellphones on the kitchen counter, I never run out the door without my watch. I know never is a strong word, but it’s true.
I feel naked without my watch.
So, Tuesday morning when I woke up to find the face to my watch blank, I had a split-second of panic. I know it was just the battery that was dead, but that meant 1) I’d need to find a mini-screwdriver to open the back of the watch to figure out what type of battery I needed and 2) go to the store and buy a battery. Of note also is that I do not own tools such as a mini-screwdriver. And I didn’t have time to take care of my technology problems before work — there were sources to hunt down and pages that needed to be copyedited by yours truly.
I put the pink digital watch around my wrist even though its function as a watch was completely useless. My left wrist didn’t feel comfortable going through the day without its companion.
And of course throughout the entire day I kept glancing down at it, looking for the time.
The next day I went to the mall to one of those little watch repair kiosks to have them remove the old battery and put a new one in for me. (I wasn’t about to buy a battery and a mini-screwdriver tool!) The woman looked at my watch and said she could do the task for me no problem. She (looked at her watch) and told me to come back in about 15 minutes and it would be ready. I was almost about to reply that I would wait there … I haven’t signed any papers, she hasn’t taken my name down, the worst that could happen is I return and she has no recollection of who I am or the watch I brought in.
My watch is very dear to me.
Sure, I’ve gone through numerous watches throughout the course of my watch-wearing years, but each one has held closely to my heart. I actually couldn’t tell time when I probably “should have” been able to. But then again, I was also behind on regular grade level reading skills, which explains why I had to go to summer school between first and second grades (that can be a story for another time). I had analog watches (like the ones where Mickey Mouse’s arms were the hands of the watch) and since high school — when I started running cross-country — went to digital so I could have a timing device for workouts/long runs.
Since about high school, I’ve had a permanent watch tan. It doesn’t even go away during the winter months.
And I’m not about to give that up.