When I was in grade school a nun told our class something I never forgot.

She said when we die we will have to account for how we spent our time on Earth.

Did we spend it trying to get ahead of everyone else, or did we spend it looking for ways to help others?

I heard a lot of things over the years, and the years definitely piled up.

Yet no matter how much time goes by I occasionally recall what the nun said about having to account for how we spent our time.

For years I made a joke of saying when I have to account for my time on Earth I will have to say much of it was spent looking for my glasses.

Back then, I had five pairs of glasses. One pair just for computer use, one pair for close up, one pair for distance, one pair for driving and one pair to have on hand for when I couldn’t find my glasses.

When it was time to go anywhere I couldn’t leave the house until I ran around looking for my glasses.

My husband learned if he wanted to get out of the house on time he needed to first round up my glasses.

It got to be funny because he would line up five pair of glasses by the door so I could quickly pick what I needed.

Then, one day during an eye examination, the doctor issued a stern warning to me. “You need to have cataract surgery,” he said in a firm voice, sounding like he expected me to refuse.

I replied with jubilation. “Oh, goodie! I waited a long time for this. Let’s do it right away.”

Sure enough, having cataract surgery was nothing short of amazing. Almost instantly after the procedure I could see quite wonderfully.

And I was jubilant that the lenses I chose meant I didn’t have to wear glasses anymore.

It meant I could pick up a book to read without first searching all over for my reading glasses.

I didn’t need any kind of glasses after that surgery. I bundled up all my glasses and fancy cases and donated them to the Lions Club. We were told donated glasses would go to the poor in other countries.

While I never again had to waste time searching for glasses, I had a new way to waste time.

I can’t seem to find a way to keep track of my cellphone. I would be ashamed to admit how many times during the course of one day I have to run around looking for my cellphone.

My husband said I have to be more organized by putting my phone in the same place after I use it.

“Just change your habits,” he said.

It worked with my car keys.

At his suggestion, as soon as I walk in the door I hang my car keys on the rack near the door. I never again had to run around searching for my car keys.

I haven’t been able to find a workable routine for my cellphone.

I came up with a plan to put my phone on a heavy piece of ceramic tile on the table, thinking it’s too heavy to carry it where it doesn’t belong.

Sure, but the phone isn’t heavy. When I get a call I often walk in another room to chat. Then I lay the phone down somewhere — who knows where.

I have to keep asking Alexa to ring my phone so I can follow the sound to find the phone.

But sometimes I can’t hear the sound. The last time that happened, my phone had slid between the seats in my car. Don’t ask how I walked the phone out to the garage. It must have fallen from my purse,

All I can say is I miss having a landline, a nice permanent telephone that stays in one place. I can’t carry it anywhere and it’s like a faithful friend always there when I need it.

I never wanted to get rid of my landline. But when my house got destroyed and everything had to be rebuilt, the contractor didn’t put in the new lines for a landline.

“Nobody uses a landline today,” he said. “Everyone has a cellphone.”

Spoken like a true member of the younger generation.

That belief, that everyone should have a cellphone, changes expectations.

Too many people expect everyone to be on call 24/7 to take their calls.

A friend of mine who runs her own business with many clients and frequent deliveries said that no one hesitates to call her on weekends or late at night.

“Cellphones have changed accessibility,” she said.

My neighbor Chris, who watches over my home, gets annoyed with me when I don’t answer my cellphone right away.

Chris constantly carries his phone in his back pocket so he generally responds almost instantly.

My phone doesn’t fit in a pocket. I keep trying to get a better system to keep track of it.

I know cellphones are a marvelous invention and many of us would be lost without them.

But there are many times when I still miss my old landline.

Email Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net