Have you ever forgotten about your phone? You know, when you put it in a pocket or backpack and leave it there for a few hours? If you haven’t, I definitely recommend it. There’s something that happens when we don’t have our phone in our hand or even within reach.
That being said, I recently went through an experience that’s every young person’s worst nightmare. I woke up, turned on my phone, and something inside it snapped. The screen went dark, the phone heated up quicker than a Texas highway, and after a few attempted reboots, I could tell my phone was kaput.
The next 24 hours (the astonishingly short time it took me to replace my phone) were chaotic to say the least. I logged onto Instagram through my laptop to message my family and closest friends, letting them know my phone had finally given up for good. They were worried, and understandably so. These days, a college student without a phone is practically trapped on a desert island.
My mother even offered to send me the family phone until such time as I could get a replacement. After assuring her that I was okay and would find something sooner or later, I took a step back and thought to myself: is my phone really that important? Maybe for calling my family, sure, but what about everything else? Going without a phone would be inconvenient, but I could make it work.
However, I did end up getting a new phone. As a college student, I do consider my phone a very important possession. It allows me to track my runs, plan meetings, work on projects in my spare time, communicate with my bosses, and publish my thoughts on this blog. Therefore, I wouldn’t hesitate to argue that my phone is a useful tool in pursuing these things and that it adds tremendous value to my life (when used properly).
With my new phone, I do make an effort to forget about it more often. To not use it during breakfast, dinner, homework, or while I’m sitting on the porcelain throne. Because although it may be a nice tool, there are times when sitting in silence and appreciating the world around you (or the oh-so-tasteful graffiti on the stall door) is immeasurably better than staring at a lit-up piece of glass.