It's no secret that I am addicted to my iPhone, it's sleek black casing and sensitive touch screen pad make communicating a thing of beauty and wonder. So you can imagine my utter horror when I dropped the phone in the middle of town and the screen shattered. Now for the last few weeks I have had this feeling, call it gut instinct or a self fulfilling prophecy that something bad was going to happen to my phone. So I began taking precautions to protect my baby. I stopped taking it to the bathroom, stopped carelessly putting it on the side of the bath tub full of water and I even started using my protective case cover.
So when I took a photo of my little girl posing with a stick of candy floss as big as she was and the phone slide out of it's casing and crashed onto the brick floor I was stunned into silence.
My facial reaction and the prolonged breath in told my little girl that I needed comforting as she reassuringly said 'It's OK mummy, it's was just an accident.' Now bearing in mind I was in a public bustling market on a bank holiday weekend, my husband could hear my reaction from eight shops away as I repeatedly cried. 'OH NO I broke my phone.'
My facial reaction and the prolonged breath in told my little girl that I needed comforting as she reassuringly said 'It's OK mummy, it's was just an accident.' Now bearing in mind I was in a public bustling market on a bank holiday weekend, my husband could hear my reaction from eight shops away as I repeatedly cried. 'OH NO I broke my phone.'
Stephen approached me and asked what had happened. I told him and then put the broken phone in my pocket. Now despite my initial shock reaction the reality of my phone being damaged didn't register for at least 2 hours. After the phone went into my pocket I went into denial. If I couldn't see the phone was broken then it wasn't broken. Sad I know but I am an addict. Stephen commented on how well I was handling it because he'd be totally gutted if he smashed his phone. I just shrugged my shoulders and said. 'Well these things happen don't they.' Then carried on with my shopping. It was only when the thought of checking Facebook crossed my mind and I pulled the phone absent mindedly out of my pocket that reality kicked in. The next stage was fear thoughts of not being able to social network made me feel a little sick. It was Coms blackout for me and there was nothing I could do. I was unplugged. The fear took control as terrifying thoughts crossed my mind. 'What if the phone can't be fixed? What if I have to use my old phone until the end of my contract? What if I lose followers because I'm not tweeting enough?' These thoughts went around and around in a perpetual loop until I could got home and called the insurance company.
'For Feks sake £100 pound excess and my insurance will increase next year... by how much?' I really should read the small print. The next step was to call Apple as a claim to the insurance company was out of the question. 'Fekking 'ell £146 quid to repair the screen. Your all righ' mate I don't wanna book an appointment.' I finally found a local lad that would fix it for me for £65 quid. I was quoted £40 online but I'd have to send the phone away and I wasn't keen on that idea. But with the Bank Holiday the phone wouldn't be fixed until Wednesday. 'Breath deep breaths it's OK.' I reassured myself that I could last 5 days without my iPhone.
Not only am I an iPhone survivor but I have been released from the body-snatchers at Apple. I woke up from my virtual dream. I had taken the red pill and it was painful. I have only had my iPhone for a 9 months and it's vice like grip took over my entire being. And now for the first time in months I finally found time to do all those little things I wanted to do. I cleaned out all of the wardrobes and threw away four bin liners of stained or bleached clothes and broken toys. Dinner was made on time, I started phoning people and having conversations rather than reporting my life through brief messages. Engaging in conversation with my husband became richer and more entertaining because I wasn't checking the phone every few minutes to see if a friends Facebook status had changed. But the most shocking of all truths was that I started actually listening and chatting to my 3 year old. I hadn't realised that for months I had been having part conversations with her because I was updating or commenting on someones status or replying to a tweet. This really upset me when it dawned on me.
The world inside of the iPhone is miraculous, everything you could ever want at your finger tips. You can book a flight, buy someones virginity, It will answer any question you throw at it. You can watch films, play games and listen to music. It has voice control and every kind of social networking setting possible. It is truly a marvel of the modern world and a powerful tool. Information, knowledge and entertainment all wrapped up in a device smaller than your palm. Is there any wonder why I became addicted to my iPhone. The problem is my iPhone can't hold me when I'm scared or sad. It will never love me like my daughter and husband. The time I have spent investing in my phone has made me realise what I have been missing in my own home. Tomorrow the phone gets repaired and although I am happy about it. The social networking world no longer holds the sex appeal it once did. The iPhone's shiny lustre has eroded as I realise I have been living a half life in a machine. My attitude has shifted again. I thought I had my addiction under control until I went cold turkey. Guess I was wrong.
