I left my apartment today, stepped into a cab to go across town and discovered, to my horror, that I had left my cell phone at home. I lived most of my life without a cell phone. I didn’t need to make any calls. I didn’t really need it at all. But the panic I felt at missing it was much like I’d imagine I’d feel if I discovered I’d left home without putting my pants on. Somehow I made it through the day. And I as reclaimed my precious this evening upon returning home, I felt, well, both an immense relief, and, pathetic.