Last week, a tragedy befell me. I never thought I would be able to overcome such a crushing loss, but so far, I’ve managed quite well. This is my story.
As I sat at my desk in Cheverus 200, my frustration grew to the point of a mental breakdown. Why won’t this stupid phone charge? I knew why, yet I continued trying to plug the damn thing in and push and prod until a light came up, indicating it was finally charging. Three batteries and two different chargers later, I knew my worst fears were true: the charging port somehow broke and I would be cellphone-less for at least a week.
In this day and age, it becomes quite easy to overlook the extent to which people use their phones. But not having one for a week, I figured out how much I relied on it quickly. No longer did I receive notifications of Facebook updates, e-mails, text messages, or phone calls. I was entirely removed from the social networks and the sounds and vibrations that indicated “human” contact of some sort. All my interactions with people were physical and in-person (unless I was at my laptop).
Now, some people would argue that this experience might be relieving, a break from the daily monotony of updates and distractions a smartphone can drag into your life. While this is somewhat true, it was also stressful. For one, I rarely knew the time. This meant I was constantly arriving early to things, not wanting to be tardy. Secondly, I never knew if I was needed. Friends or organizations that needed my input or presence somewhere would have to email me hours in advance, because the idea of immediacy and last-minute meetings went out the window with the death of my phone.
Despite the minor setbacks and stress the absence of a phone can have, I must say I see no need to have one. After a week, I’m fairly confident I could easily survive a lifetime without it. The only things you need are organization, a watch, and people skills. But that will never happen.