I didn’t want another device.
I didn’t want another notification ringing, dinging or pinging me. No thank you. Technology overload is a thing.
Ah, but necessity is the mother of invention. I needed a wrist watch. I could have just bought a simple watch, with no bells or whistles, but my kids convinced me I needed an Apple watch because it would link to my other technologies.
I can’t afford all these expensive gadgets, but let’s face it, when it comes to connectivity and convenience, you really do start to rely on these technologies, not only in work, but in life. The world could end if I don’t respond to a text immediately.
This Apple orchard of products is ludicrous (read: brilliant marketing). I feel like nothing in my life works now unless it has an Apple trademark on it. I’m not proud of this, but I also admit to taking the bite.
It’s made me a hypocrite though. I’m constantly telling people I care about to put their phone down and pay attention to the world around them (read: pay attention to me). It’s a slippery slope every time I join them in this virtual universe.
First, I fell for the FitBit craze. My daughter convinced me that it would be good for my health. I could monitor my heart, my daily step count, sleep patterns and it would tell me to drink more water. It’s what all the cool kids were doing (she didn’t say that, but it was implied).
I didn’t love it. I especially did not enjoy the reminder that my eyesight is ageing right on schedule, so I couldn’t see the wrist device’s tiny numbers or little icons without my bifocals. The cool kids laughed at me.
Having failed that, I needed a watch because apparently it’s annoying that I keep asking what time it is, when my phone could tell me the answer. But here’s the issue: I keep putting the phone down and forgetting where I left it, mostly because I enter a room but cannot remember why. It’s because I’m looking for my phone that I left in the room I just left.
So I took a bite into my savings for an Apple watch, which I continued to refer to as an iWatch until my son finally snapped.
“It’s an iPhone and an Apple watch, mom. Get it right.” Noted.
This watch is amazing. Even though I cheaped out and bought an old version that will surely be extinct next week, it means I’m not tethered to my iPhone.
Wait. No, it actually tethers me to my iPhone because it only does the cool stuff when in the vicinity of my phone. Okay, never mind what I just said. I like it. And I always know what time it is.
I can respond to texts and take phone calls from my wrist. Siri sets my schedule with a voice command. And I can read the screen without bifocals. I’m addicted.
My husband, the Carpenter, now refers to me as Inspector Gadget. If you were a parent in the 2000s, you will now have the annoying earworm of that cartoon theme song in your head. You’re welcome.
But like all technologies, the best feature is when it sets itself to sleep, so I can have uninterrupted quiet time like we all should every night. Even the cool kids need to disconnect. Technology overload requires boundaries.
