I’m going to warn you that this particular post may or may not be a short rant on how attached I am to my tech. You should read on regardless as you never know what tidbit you might take away from it.
2 weeks ago my phone spontaneously decided to commit cellular suicide. I coaxed, coo’d, and charged, desperately willing it back to life. The cold dark screen looked back with not a blip of light.
All day I felt a rising sense of panic, I felt limbless. The archetype once associated with the mobile device was the Lover and now the Caregiver. Truly that was what it felt like. The Lover that provides you with undivided attention as your relationship blooms, you come to rely on them to be there at every turn; until finally one day they disappear…a bad romance novel in the making. The Caregiver that answers your queries no matter how obscure, who informs you where to do and where to definitely avoid.
I hung on with the desperate hope that it would all come back to me in a weeks time, only to learn that I might be out of communication for another 3 weeks. I’m learning to live on the other side of a connected world. One where I have to wait patiently to look up information. Forced to remember moments to google later. It’s teaching me to take the pup for a walk without being fixated on what’s happening outside the moment. Most importantly and probably for the better…not download anything Pokemon related.
While this has been happening I’ve neglected this corner of my life. So bear with me while I learn how to connect again.