Okay, so I get it, I’m of a different generation, leaning toward the older side of things – but, hey, the cool older side. Adaptation is key in life, and some things come easier than others. I still, for instance, need a pad and paper for lists, and it’s taken me a ridiculous amount of time to finally ease into relying on a digital calendar rather than my good ol’ day planner.

With that, I’m of a mostly unpopular opinion here, I’m well aware. But I don’t think I’m alone entirely in wishing for a time when I wasn’t expected to be available 24/7. When real-life conversations didn’t stop at the chime of a tiny, ubiquitous computer ever about our person, vibrating all day long with expectation? (Oh, there’s a dirty joke in there somewhere, and I’ll find it.) But, seriously. Am I the only one overwhelmed by that?

Seems we’re not too far out from implanting the damn thing directly into our bodies. And why not? We’re practically fused to them, anyway. With an average screentime of 4.5-5 hours a day? Seems it would be better for all the wear and tear, at least. Sure, the whole tech neck bone spur thing was debunked, but not tech neck itself.

I’m fortunate that I’m not attached to my phone from the get. I typically wake up when my body calls it, about 9, and I have an app I’ve programmed to keep me off all social media, emails, or news apps until 10:30. I’ve further programmed it to open specific programs for small portions of time, a chosen number of times a day. It works, and I’ve found myself doing other things I had convinced myself I have no time for – like cooking, reading, and even clicking away at the keyboard. Hey, I’m here, ain’t I?

Don’t get me wrong – I love me some technology. After all, without my maps app? I wouldn’t find my way out of my neighborhood. And, hi, I’m Kate, a recipe addict. Between Insta and ReciMe? I’ve tried 122 new things this year so far! ReciMe has been an amazing find, far as that little jones goes. And, hello, stupid animal videos? Come on, it’s what the internet was created for!

In the end, I know enough to know I don’t want to turn into one of those old irritable people, spouting off inconsequential fables about the blessed good old days, talking a big talk about how much better things were. Besides, who the hell would want to hang out with someone who constantly looks backwards, anyway? So. I guess I’ll work at getting better at the whole texting thing. But, hey, don’t get you’re expectations too high, my friends.