Old Dog

My husband and I find ourselves discussing how insane it is that people feel the need to be available 24/7. I remember back when the Xerox repairman and doctors were the ONLY people who carried pagers.

Bob remarks that he tells people at work that email is not an instant messaging service. It is a message forwarding and storing system. That’s my little engineer talking.

Halfway through my first Photoshop Boot Camp class, I realize my cell phone is still on. Of course it takes hearing someone else’s phone ring before I think of it. I dig mine out of my purse, start to turn it off, then hesitate. “What if someone needs to reach me?”

I opt for vibrate and then get annoyed with myself, “since when did what I WASN’T doing become more important than what I WAS doing?” I don't have time for a debate, so I opt to think about it later.

I’m the first to joke about people and their “CrackBerry’s.” But I’m just as guilty as they are, just too cheap to pay for the higher priced model. What happened to my commitment to present moment? I decide that next week I will turn off my cell phone completely. That’s a good start.

California’s new law requiring hands-free cell phone use is sprouting a new breed of individual. My brother-in-law describes them as having a cockroach in their ear. They walk around appearing to talk to themselves making it difficult to distinguish the truly insane from the headset addicted.

I was aware that my mother’s body was inhabiting mine, the mirror doesn’t lie, but I hadn’t realized the extent to which her thoughts were taking over. That was new information.