I've never lost a mobile phone before but that's what seems to have happened earlier this evening and I have to confess it feels strange. Strange because I had a mobile for almost a decade and barely used it but then as soon as i got a smart phone it was like a whole new world opening up.
Before then I hadn't bothered with blogging or Twitter, Facebook or YouTube but since getting my iPhone 3G - yes it was ancient, I know - according to my better half I 'hadn't been bloody off it'.
So right now I'm trying not to think about the fact that I - stupidly - didn't bother password protecting it and that it's distinctly possible that some chancer with no morals could be sifting through pictures and indeed account numbers from the last three-and-a-half years of my life.
Instead I'm hoping that the pictures of my grandson, my allotment, the beers my friends and I have drunk, the restaurants my loved ones and I have visited have been squeezed into a gap in the car seat, a fold in the bed sheets or even better shoved down the bog, by a two year-old with the most mischievous grin you will ever see.
And if not hopefully someone nice at Sainsburys in Newport will hand it back to me tomorrow morning.
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