Over my self-indulgent hibernation, I’ve been spending a lot of time with a smartphone that I happened to receive over Christmas. It’s a neat little device, and I’m constantly overwhelmed by all the intricacies of it and the Android OS. It’s entertaining, but it’s gotten me thinking about cell phones in general.
I haven’t had mine long enough to fully conceptualize what I’m going to talk about (which really should say something about how fantastic a writer I am. No, no, please, your thanks are definitely not necessary). Heck, it still feels like an electric shock probes its way into my thigh whenever I get a text message. Thanks, vibrate mode.
However, for the cellularly-adept, the opposite problem seems to occur. “What’s that? Surely that was my phone; after all, people NEED me! I am their lifeblood! They want MY van’s candy! So let my open up this gadget real quick…” and BAM, nothing. Hopes are dashed and disappointment creeps in. Chalking it up as phantom noise, or a mistake in the phone, you go back to your regular duties.
If it only happened once, well, that would be fine. Actually, this process can repeat itself many times throughout the average day, causing a compounding effect with the hopes and disappointment. Especially when you’re really hoping to hear from someone. It’s frustrating, because the fault lies entirely with the device’s owner. The emotional-warhead side of it can aggravate, too. Appearing, at times, like you should spill acid in your ears in order to cleanse this mistaken sensory stimulation.
I can’t wait until I reach this stage. Trust me.
Everyone needs to feel wanted. Unfortunately, everyone wants to feel needed, too.
Let Sensing Your Cell Phone When It Hasn’t Gone Off Die
Photo Credits: Here