If you didn’t read my last post, go read it! Or don’t. All it said in so many words was: I got a flip phone. 

Now it has been a whole 24 hours. Yesterday was the first day out and about with the phone. I went to work like usual. 

The first hurdle: our punch clock is on our phones. Good thing everyone else has a smartphone. I punched in on a coworker’s phone.

Later on, I slyly took out my phone out of my jeans pocket and flipped it open with show. My coworkers laughed at me because I am a comical genius. Or maybe because of the absurdity of a 20-something carrying a flip phone. Or both. I started laughing too. I was a rebel without a cause. A smartphone-less vagabond. An old person stuck in the body of a 23 year old. I reveled in the contradiction.

The day drove on. I began to notice smartphones everywhere. Twinges of jealousy and curiosity hit. I observed others with their phones in a new light. 

The weather was changing and I went to check my — phone. I became mildly upset that I could not find out the hourly weather forecast. My impulsive desire for forecast knowledge could not be fulfilled. Panic set in. Oh god, what if it starts raining? But then, I thought, who cares? 

If it rains, it rains. Checking the probability of rain will not change the future.

It didn’t rain.

I kept flipping open my phone on habit. To check the time, to check… something. Always checking. I felt empty because there was nothing to check.

Texting on T9 is a force. It takes about a minute to send “Hi, what’s up?” I miss my smartphone keyboard. My coworker was tapping away at the screen sending text after text. Hundreds of words. I could barely manage to add a new contact during that time. The first text I sent was: Hhg. I meant to say: Hi.  

The camera sucks, but in a nostalgic way. It reminds me of sleep-away camp when I walked around with shitty camcorder or riding the bus on the way to school. 

Anyway I work as a bouncer at an undisclosed location. A mom and her 4 or 5 year old son walk up to the door. The child’s face is illuminated in the dark by a phone screen. I ask for ID. The ID is in the mom’s phone case in her child’s hand. The mom goes to the stroller and asks the child for the phone back. The child begins to have a complete meltdown and refuses. Kicking and screaming. He rips off the front part of the stroller, where you can put snacks and a sippy cup, and throws it on the ground dramatically. The mother is embarrassed and apologizes. She gives the phone back to the child and he is soothed. Happens all the time, no worries. 

Those pesky phones, man. I don’t know if I’m on the road to fanaticism, but I’m starting to believe that it is unhealthy for a child to have constant access to smartphones and tablets and laptops and all that. I hope to god I’m wrong because every kid has one. 

Moving on, I made it through day 1. Today is day 2. I spent more time on my laptop than usual: went through all my facebook pictures and checked all my emails and reread my whole college thesis and updated my LinkedIn page. My screen gives me company while I sip my now-lukewarm coffee and write. 

I feel more alone and more bare. I feel like I took away some part of myself. Dramatic, I know. Hoping it will get easier tomorrow. 

TTYL.