Life in a phone book

I cleared out my phone book yesterday. By phone book I mean the app on my phone that I rarely open these days. I haven’t seen a physical phone book since the one my parents had.

Some of the numbers have been in there since my very first phone since i’ve always kept the same number. Like my notes app, its a record of things that must have been noteworthy once.. or at least things I thought I should remember.

Among the numbers I found are:

* The doctors surgery I went to as a child. I remember they had a plastic tree house playset that I enjoyed playing with.

* The village florist that was my florist. The one I always went to until she had to move premises and ultimately sell up.

* Names of people I used to work with that I can no longer remember.

* The animal rescue service I called when Marmalade went missing.

* The kilt maker that I used for my wedding.

* More numbers than expected from the temporary AirBnB bookings job I had for a little while.

* The autism charity that I interviewed with and may have ended up working at, had life taken me in a different direction. It wasn’t enough money and I no longer agree with their approach, but still.

* The recycling depot I ended up working at during my time in recruitment.

* The Shift leader from a hospital kitchen I used to work at. I remember I couldn’t wait to get a ‘proper’ job. Looking back now, there’s a lot I miss about that job.

* The emergency numbers from my Ultra challenge 100km treks.

* The moving company and cleaning company I liaised with as office manager.

* Family contacts for the adults with learning disabilities that I used to support.

* The contact from a young persons mentor scheme I was thinking of joining.

* The contact for a decade long study into depression in families that I was part of.

* The choir leader from my brief stint as part of the Big Choir, a cancer charity.

* Taxi numbers for places I can’t remember. B&B contacts for more places I can’t remember.

* More than a few people who I’d like to forget.

It’s strange how what matters can change over time.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash.