It was Monday, and if Monday wasn’t already bad enough, I was walking to the train station and was about 5 minutes from my house when I figured out I left my phone a home. If I went back I would miss my train (it’s only 12 minutes for the next one, but it was humid out and I really didn’t want to turn back and show up at work drenched in sweat). I decided I would make a bold decision. I would live a day without my phone.
Would I live to tell the tale (yes, obvi)
Is obvi still a thing? Anyway, here is what I remember:
I arrive at the Metro station just as the train is pulling out. It’s 9 minutes to the next train (as you might guess, with Metro schedule is really “schedule”). I immediately go for my phone but my pocket is as empty as my mind. I look around at my fellow commuters hunched over their glowing screens and I am very jealous. At least I have my Garmin. I check my step count for the 30th time in 5 minutes. Since I am sitting on a bench my step count isn’t going anywhere. I feel it is unfair that checking your step count doesn’t count for anything.
The next train arrives and I am able to get a seat. Since I have nothing better to do I look around the train car. I see a person with a historic relic. It is made of paper and has print on it. I squint and recognize an article I has read online from a day earlier. The person glances up from his artifact and notices me gawking. I quickly glance down at my hands, but without a phone there the ruse doesn’t work. Monday sucks.
I arrive at work sans phone. It just dawned on my that not only am I Twitterless, I’m textless (yes both Twitterless and Textless are words, feel free to use them at Scrabble, or Words with Friends, or whatever people do with words these days other than butcher them writing blogs). This day is going down hill fast.
I wonder how the online world is surviving without my wit. I then remember that for someone to miss something it has to be there in the first place. I want to tweet that observation. I spend the next 15 minutes searching my office for a pen and paper. I scribble something on the paper and quickly realize that my handwriting resembles something a drunken Russian would pen and that I have no hope of reading my handwriting. Life is cruel.
I have breakfast. Since I don’t take a picture of it (duh, no phone) I can’t post it to Instagram. I can’t remember if you don’t post your food if it has double the calories or not. I am really hoping not.
I am rather productive since I don’t have a phone to check every 30 seconds. I think about using my work phone to call The Pig and asking him to bring my phone from home, but realize letting The Pig know he has access to my phone probably isn’t the best of plans since the Amazon App is on my phone and he would put me into bankruptcy.
I go to Starbucks and get in line during my lunch break with a platoon of office workers looking down at their phones. I am quickly reminded that checking my phone is the only thing that makes the line bearable (side note, I hate lines) and decide it’s not worth it.
It is odd being the only person around without a phone. I look around and feel invisible. Then I remember that I am in DC with a ton of surveillance cameras and I look very suspicious looking around. I scurry back to my office before one of the three-letter agency notices and puts me in a black ops site somewhere.
11:15, yes still AM
I nuke my lunch, an Unhealthy Choice frozen meal and realize the meal is even less appealing when you aren’t distracted by social media. I get so bored I read the ingredients lists of my meal. I wonder if modified potato starch has anything to do with Mr. Potato head.
I have reached a new low—I wish I could access Facebook (even though I don’t have an account).
Without a phone I couldn’t take pictures like this.
Will I survive the rest of the day without my phone. Will The Pig use my phone to sign up for 20 more mud races? Find out the answer to this, and other questions you don’t care about, next Tuesday in the next exciting installment of a day without my phone.