So, as the cherry atop an utterly sucking Monday, my cell phone was destroyed.
This has a number of ramifications:
The one way I had established to be reached at with any continuity has been eliminated.
The way I had to call out- and my phone book- is gone.
The fine folk at Cobble Hill have a phone in my room, but no-one seems to know the number or extension, and there is a strong possibility that incoming calls sent to room 117B are being sent someplace else.
So-I am incommunicado. I have a few numbers, but don’t assume yours is one of them. I am hoping that contacting someone with caller ID will help me determine what my number actually is.