Pavlov's Slut

I have an electronic device that pretty much lives in my purse.

I read on it, get my email on it, do a little surfing… and, on this particular device, I can also text with BG -- who has long been assigned his own particular, distinct, ringing alert tone, so that I know it's him when my purse chimes.

Three years of this tone had honed my reflexes to a razor edge to the extent that, for months after our breakup, hearing that sound on someone else's device could still knee-jerk me into scrambling through my purse before rational thought could kick in. While time and reconciliation have helped to calm my sense of urgency somewhat, I still step pretty lively when I hear that particular peal.

I also have another device -- one that pretty much lives in my bedroom. It, too, is used to read, get email, surf the web... This device isn't tucked away anywhere, however. It's out in the open, very close to my pillow. You might think a thing like that would be distracting throughout the night, but I've never found it bothersome. Rather, once I fall asleep, the little electronic noises no longer register.

Or so I thought.

However, BG now has a new electronic device of his own, one that can reach me at other devices besides just the one in my purse -- and apparently, the settings for his messages are ubiquitous -- as are my knee-jerk responses.

Because the other night, I snapped awake well after midnight, wondering why I felt like I'd done a flip in bed, only to realize I was on my stomach, propped up on my elbows, and answering a late-nite text from BG that I had no conscious recollection of having heard arrive… or even of having read yet. (Tho' my response was coherent and appropriate!)

I had *no idea* I could be so well-trained by a bell…

(Nor frankly, am I convinced I want to let him know that I am!)  ;-)