I might be the only person alive in this day and
age who absolutely hates cell phones. I cannot stand having one. It makes me
nervous and I cannot come to terms with the fact that anyone can get in touch
with me whenever they please.
Of course, I haven’t always been like this. I used
to love my phone just as much as the next person. Some would even argue that I worshipped
that beautiful piece of technology. But after a series of unfortunate events
which left me without a phone more than once, I got used to just not having
one. Yes, yes. Cue gasp. Shock. Horror. How dare I say such and such?
Blasphemy. All of that and more. I really don’t care.
As impossible as it might be for you to believe, your
reactions won’t change a single thing. I recently went two months without a cell
phone and it was the happiest time of my life. I had no human being to answer
to but myself. If I didn’t feel like seeing you, I simply wouldn’t call you.
Imagine that freedom and self-ownership. Just…imagine. Imagine, I said!
And yes a few people were pissed off. And yes the
family was vehemently against this bizarre behaviour, which I guess I can
understand. It’s the 21st century. The new world. The digital world.
Blah, blah, blah. But I couldn’t be bothered. I can tell you right now that
those 2 months were the happiest and most worry free months I’ve ever had the privilege
of enjoying in more than 8 years.
I saw who I saw when I wanted to see them. I spoke
to who I spoke to when I felt like speaking to them. Hell, I even thought about
who I thought about only when I wanted to think about them –not because they
sent me a text that I now have to reply to even though I don’t want to. It was
great. Glorious. Magnificent.
And now it’s gone. And I am back to the torture of being
under the curse of instant availability. So long, happy days. I’ve had this
thing for less than a week and I’m absolutely miserable.