Well, that's what I tell people. Actually, I have no idea what happened. One minute I'm taking my visiting friend on a bike tour of Fort Collins breweries and the next I'm having a massive panic attack because my phone's screen has gone blank.
It's not exactly dead. It still vibrates and chirps and plays Ozzy Ozborne's "Crazy Train" when someone calls. But the screen is shot.
I have two conflicting feelings.
The first is terror. I have 460 phone calls out! What if one calls back before I can get my phone situation sorted out? I've put so much work into this cold calling thing, it just breaks my heart to think of even one little prospect slipping through my fingers.
(Rationally, there's very little chance this will happen at beer o'clock on a Saturday, but still.)
The other emotion is jubilation. Now I have the perfect excuse not to cold call. Perhaps my phone situation will be tied up for a whole week and I can have a break from reading the same script ad nauseum.
Alas, neither scenario comes to pass.
By Tuesday (when my dear friend departs and I resume business as usual), Virgin Mobile has overnighted me a spankin' new phone, so I am back on the cold calling war path.
I did miss one call from a new prospect. Fortunately she emailed me, so I was able to get back to her the same day.
What would I have done without a phone? I like to think I'd have forged on using Skype or similar. But truthfully, even though it doesn't scare me anymore, I haven't grown to adore cold calling. So I probably would have kicked back, taken the week off ...
... and had a really agonizing time getting back on the horse next Monday.