identitySPECIALIST

Today I was at my in-law’s house.  I don’t get cell phone service at their house.  It’s not the house – it’s not where they live – it’s my wireless service.  It’s not my choice.  It’s a work phone, and you can “get more” pretty much every where except for where my in-laws live.  All of my in-laws and my wife have an iPhone.  They get service fine up there, but nevermind my envy – on to the point that I want to make.

Because I don’t get service up there, I just turn my phone off.  If I don’t, it just wastes battery trying to find it – in vain.  I had to make a call to check in with work, and I had to turn my phone on to get a number.  You see (and here’s the point), I don’t know anyone’s number.  I know my wife’s number (barely), my parent’s number (because it’s the same one they’ve had since I was in jr. high), and my in-law’s number (because it was my wife’s number when she wasn’t my wife).

I don’t know any phone numbers.  I have to occasionally look up my extension at work.  I have to look at my business card to see what my school number is.  There was a time when I had tons of numbers memorized.  I had more than 3 stored in the memory banks.  It’s not like I can’t have that many numbers memorized.  I just don’t need to.  I look up their names or the name that I chosen for them in my phone, and I call them.  I have become dependent on my phone – maybe a little too much.  I have been conditioned to need my phone.  I have been conditioned to store most of my information on my phone.  I have been conditioned to rely on my phone and not my mind.  I have been conditioned to need my phone…….and I think I’m okay with it.