My name is Rob, and I'm an addict. I didn't realize how deep my addiction was until today, but it hit me with full digital force, and I've got some self-reflection to do.
I got a new iPhone from work, and I set about early this morning to activate it in advance of a series of meetings that began at 8:30. I only got as far as the iCloud backup screen before things went south. I couldn't connect to my AppleID, likely because my kids' phones are connected to the same account, and they've somehow created some ungodly intermingling of devices and identities. Even after I reset the account and spent time online with Apple support, I was unable to complete the setup process.
This would've all been fine, except that I'd deactivated my old phone as a part of the process of activating the new one.
Facing a day without immediate gratification via Twitter, and texts, and G:TB, I kinda freaked out. My mood soured, my anger grew, I became irritable and short-tempered. (Contrary to general consensus, this is not my normal workplace persona.)
In all seriousness, I acted like someone in the throes of withdrawal. I spent the better part of the day distracted, unfocused, and annoyed. My mood was dark, and it's only improved now, two strong beers in.
I was finally able to activate my new phone when I returned home in the evening, but technology was not quite done with me.
As I prepared to take my daughter to a friend's house, the GPS system in the car wouldn't allow me to advance past the first screen when attempting to input the destination address. I almost punched the windshield.
Upon my return home, as I was washing dishes after dinner, I knocked the coffee grinder off of the counter, shattering it and rendering it useless. Like me, today.
Then, as I was disposing of a bag of silicon-based coolant that comes with the weekly portion from one of those fancy prepared food delivery services, I dropped it into the toilet, sending a shower of water and chemical particles half-way up my bathroom wall and all over my pants.
Fuck off, modernity. I need to find me a 12-step Luddite group. And sit in a dark place and think about what I've become.