To: My smartphone
CC: My tablet device
I love you, but I don’t like you right now.
You take up a lot of my time at the moment mobile phone, and time is pretty precious in my life. I am spending way too much of it swiping through your many, many apps and stumbling across new ones promising to make my life better.
You’re so trendy, good-looking and fun, everyone wants to own one of you.
But you are a distraction that I just don’t need right now.
We go everywhere together, so of course the two of us are extremely close. We have more physical contact than I do with my husband.
Even when I’m enjoying quality time with the kids when we’re out and about, there you are. Always along for the ride. Ready to snap a picture or two when someone does something cute.
You’ve got a front row seat to my life.
You are the third person helping me stay in touch with close friends at just a few taps of your slightly-smudged screen. You are the reason I can’t make excuses for not answering the phone when my mother calls.
The problem isn’t that you’re not good enough for me. It’s that you’re too good.
There you are with your super fast 4G connection, your improved camera that takes gorgeous pictures of my kids, your amazing signal that doesn’t drop anywhere and all those filter options I can add to my thousands of pictures.
I don’t even have to enter a pin code to access all the magnificent things that make you you. All I have to do is press my thumb and there we are, you’re offering me the world and I don’t even have to get out of bed.
And then there’s social media. My key gripe.
You have made it far too easy for me to waste hours staring at Instastories, Facebook posts, memes featuring an angry cat and trending tweets.
The scary thing is I think you know what you’re doing. You know that if you offer this stuff up to me on an easily accessible plate I will devour it all with my greedy eyes one swipe at a time.
You’re like a drug dealer selling the best damn fix in town, all I need to do is swipe left to unlock the screen.
The worst thing of all is it’s not your fault these things are happening, it’s mine. I’m the one who can’t stay away from the warm glow of your screen and the flashing headlines of MailOnline’s right hand sidebar of shame.
It’s my choice to pick you up, my choice to stare open-mouthed at your screen as I catch up on the day’s news before window shopping on the ASOS app.
It’s not that I’m in the market for an upgrade.
I think we need a break mobile phone. Yes we still have to live under the same roof, that O2 contract I signed means divorce cannot take place for another six months. But maybe, for just a little while, we could take a step back.
I won’t take you out with me quite so often. I won’t always have you in my pocket.
I will live my life by actually looking at what is unfolding in front of me, rather than viewing it through your teeny tiny camera lens.
I think that could be a pretty liberating experience, mobile phone, so let’s just see how it goes.
It’s not you, it’s me.
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