I had my “smart” phone stolen three days ago, and didn’t get a functioning replacement until yesterday evening. It was SCARY couple of days, man! How did we ever live without these things? They’re like our personal little proxy brains umbilical corded to the very core of our being.
For two days I felt weirdly out of sync and off-balance, like something essential was missing from my internal composition: kind of like the dream when you’re in the subway without any clothes on, or you’re tearing through your old high school trying to find where the math exam is but you haven’t been to any of the classes all year?
It feels offputting and strangely marginalizing to be smart-phoneless–like you’ve been temporarily deleted from the great global network of digitized minions, texting and chit-chatting away in a caco-phone-y of binary code and emoticons.
Things didn’t feel normal again until I managed to get the new phone arranged with all the apps and the widgets and various other little doodads and frills just where I kind of remember them being. But of course, they’re not exactly the same, and they never will be. I’ll have to adapt to this new version of my old smart phone self.
What doesn’t kill us makes us crazier. And life marches on…