You know it is time to go home from work when....

I have a family plan on the cell phones and we have not had a land line in a couple of years. My son and I got our phones when the plan was put together. Our phone numbers are exactly the same, except for the last digit. The last digit on my number is 1, on his it’s 2.

After school yesterday I stayed and tutored some kids.

Then I graded some stuff.

Then I checked my work email.

After that I put in my attendance..

I decided to call my son before leaving work.

I use my office phone to dial him up and while I wait for him to answer, my cell phone buzzes in my back pocket. So, I pull it out, put my glasses on (because my eyes have completely gone middle aged and refuse to see anything in my cell phone on their own – do they make cell phones with enlarged font???), and I see it is a number from within the school.

Now, the sad thing is, I keep my phone on vibrate at work, and since I keep it in my back pocket, I don’t often feel it when it buzzes. Or not until the last buzzaruni. I try not to let myself think what this says about my ass and the twenty pounds middle age has added on to it. It’s too sad.

I have two friends at work. Well, I have more than that, technically speaking. The other 140 teachers and 50 or so staff I am friendly with while I am there. But two teachers I hang with on vacations and they call me and we talk (gossip) about work, but also about other shared interests.

Anywhos, I figure it is one of these two and since I missed the call on my cell, and since reception is not so good, I call her extension from my office phone.

Hmm. She doesn’t answer.

So I redial my son.

This time my cell phone buzzes across my desk.

My glasses are back off and I go through the whole routine again, calling the other friend who also is not at her desk and probably home already having a margatuni.

How weird is that? Every time I go to use my office phone, my cell phone rings?

I’m sure everyone reading this is smarter than me and has figured this out already.

But, me, I try my son a third time. And my cell phone buzzes.

The veil of fog begins to lift from the hallways of my addled brain and I look at the number displayed digitally on my work phone.

Yeah. I’ve been calling my own number.