iPhone by-ve

This week I actually came close to doing what it was I planned to do every week for this column: I committed myself successfully to a single activity and explored its consequences. I was going for gold, making my editors proud, proving to the Daily that I am not always a horrible procrastinator.

The only caveat was that I in no way would have embarked on such a distressful adventure of my own volition. I was coerced by fate, which I understand makes me sound both like a melodramatic thespian and a prepubescent brat, but the situation begs for such unsavory privileged-person whining.

In short, I lost my phone.

No one, of course, loses his or her phone intentionally. No one even gives up his or her phone for an entire week amidst deadlines, lunch dates, assignments and shenanigans without a pretty real case of delusion. Cell phones have assumed functions including iPod, internet, flashlight and honorary best friend, in addition to what I almost forgot was their integral role in communication and social relations.

So what variety of existential awakening did I glean from my time without a phone? I didn’t become a hermit, I didn’t stop taking showers or wearing shoes, and I certainly didn’t stop using Facebook for all of my communication needs, but I do think I’ve come to understand a thing or two in my angst and phoneless distress.

I made my first observation the day after the fate-sealing incident, the moment I was stripped of 4G. Finding the willpower to wake up punctually is a relentless struggle, but as much as I want to drown my phone in a pool of battery acid every 9:30 a.m. when it disturbs my rest, I rely on this perverse, sadistic ritual. Could I even trust myself to mobilize in time to scamper to class before it ends? My intuition said no, not a chance.

Fortunately for my grades and dignity, experience speaks differently. Not only was I able to wake up an hour before class every morning, but also I partook in the same dance of lassitude, annoyance and desperation I usually do with my snooze button. Only this time I was the snooze button, alarm and disgruntled teen. Bottom line: I could still make class on time, but still just as barely as is typical.

This gave me a confidence boost, and if driving a car has taught me anything it’s that nothing’s quite as dangerous as a confidence boost. The next morning I woke up promptly an hour before the daily slew of commitments, took a lengthy shower, dressed myself hastily, opened my laptop and panicked. I had, in fact, woken up nowhere close to an hour before my commitments, as my analog watch incorrectly read, but two hours past them. Analog watches may have class, but they won’t always get you there.

Additional side effects included a newfound infatuation with Facebook and the elongation of all walks to all places. But these aren’t very profound conclusions. I expected something more to come from such a drastic venture.

Maybe this is it. By now it’s clear that phones are integral to community because we’ve made it that way, and because we prefer it that way. The convenience is convincing, but what are we missing by relying on technology in order to see friends? According to my phoneless week, I’d suggest we miss the ability to really appreciate how important the people who live with us are, and how important both planning ahead and commitment are.

Phones are brilliant, but try living like you don’t have one. It may be rewarding, and it sure beats losing the damn thing.