My husband and I signed up for wireless service and bought our first smart phones. The lady at Best Buy was very helpful and pointed us towards a decent but inexpensive starter phone and a limited time deal that gave us a reasonably monthly rate for service, so that the entire process was relatively painless.
Within a minute or two of holding my phone for the first time I dropped it, though luckily I was holding it above the counter and it only fell a couple of inches. My husband has ordered sturdy cases from Amazon that should be here within a day or two, so hopefully I won’t murder my new phone any time soon.
I held off on giving people my number last night and waited until this morning instead. I slowly added contacts – my sister J, my friends A & H, my mom – and texted back and forth with J, who spammed me with silly selfies. I haven’t taken the time to figure out the camera function so she was spared the possibility of a return barrage.
I spoke with my husband the usual way, by a proper phone call during his break, but then also texted back and forth around lunch. The phone seems like it’s going to be easy to use and to learn.
Today, the weather is warmer but gorgeous, so I decided to take a walk, leaving my 15 year old in charge of his siblings while I was gone. I deliberately left the phone at home. I left the elderly tracphone, too, for my son to use if he needed to reach his dad. An emergency seemed unlikely and the smart phone doesn’t exactly feel like a friendly companion yet.
When I reached the park, I had an epiphany: the reason I’d avoided a smart phone for so long wasn’t because of the expense, or because I didn’t want to learn the tech. It’s because I didn’t want to be carrying a tangible connection to expectations, responsibilities and people everywhere I go.
So I suppose maybe I’ll just risk a sprained ankle or other emergency and leave my phone home now and then.