Incommunicado

My phone doesn't seem to be working. Actually, it hasn't been working at least since I got back from Cambridge, but it's just now that I'm deciding to do something about it. I don't use the thing very much, and indeed unplug it quite regularly if I'm doing something that I don't want to be interrupted, but I don't like not having a means to be contacted in an emergency. The thing's completely dead, and it's not a problem with the phone itself - I've got a spare one that I acquired a few years ago by way of a funny story that I probably shouldn't fit in the middle of this sentence, and I've tried plugging that one in, to no avail - which means I'll have to call Ntl out to come and look at it. Which is a drag.

Anyway, that other telephone apparatus came about because I thought my original one (a stylish one made of transparent plastic with flashing LEDs) was broken, because it was just flashing and not making any noise when someone called me. Only after I'd bought another one and been using it for a week or so did I notice the switch on the side of my original phone that turns off the ringer. Casting my mind back, I remembered that I had deliberately set it to 'off' mode to see what would happen, and then forgot about it. So I ended up with two perfectly good phones, and went back to using the stylish one.

My dad also promised to buy me a fancy new phone from the mail-order catalogue he was so obsessed with, the last time I saw him, now I come to think of it.