Like most people nowadays I am a self-proclaimed tech-zombie; my eyes are constantly glued to my cellphone sending texts, checking emails, taking selfies and creeping my ex-boyfriends Instagram. My fellow cellphone addicts can understand my distress when after a night at Fortune I was left phoneless. I left the club livid, struggling to recall the events of the night that could have given someone the opportunity to snatch it away. This was the beginning of my pathetic withdrawal.
In the beginning of my life without a cellphone I felt lost; it was worse then a bad breakup or spilling cranberry juice on my white rag and bone jeans. The first day entailed moping; after spilling to my parents via Facebook I laid around watching crappy movies and frantically scrambling for my phone whenever I heard that familiar buzzing sound. I went to bed that night sadly setting my good old plug in alarm clock, dreading the fact that I would be subjected to waking up to that cringe-worthy beeping instead of my usual ‘As Long As You Love Me’ by Justin Bieber.
Day two rolled around quickly and was significantly easier; I learned how to walk by people on the sidewalk with my head up instead of pretending to stare at a phone screen in order to avoid the awkward split-second eye contact. I even said hi to a few people. Trips to the grocery store were still slightly difficult without being able to put my grocery list in my phone or Google recipes as I walked aimlessly down the aisles.
By day five I was becoming a phoneless professional. I started noticing how many people on the bus were totally disconnected from the world as they sat in a trance playing Candy Crush and checking Facebook as I played Sudoku in 24 Hours and read my horoscope. People watching also became a new past time of mine; it’s crazy how much I noticed when I didn’t have that cellphone to constantly tear me away from my surroundings. Handwritten grocery lists, reminders, and notes were filling my purse, and I even finally trained myself to remember my locker combo at work instead of having to check my phone for it every shift.
Day six brought with it an email from my dad saying that the new phone he sent me had arrived at the Greyhound station. What I thought would make me excited and feel like a normal person again surprisingly left me slightly disappointed. I was just beginning to feel connected to the world and this small rectangular device had suddenly made its way back into my life, ready to take over again. I picked it up, activated it, and checked my ex’s Instagram then tossed it to the side. I have made a vow to never let the tech-zombie attitude take over again. Who came up with the absurd idea that our phones should be smarter then us? We need to take a step back and realize that instead of being grateful for our data plans we should be thankful for all the little things around us that make life so awesome.
Kelli Klassen, JCI Fashion Grad