I Live To Post

Every day of my life...now..... for years ....I have posted online. I have spent all day with my nose glued to my smart phone. Coffee in one hand, smart phone in the other. Days have slipped from morning sunshine into night time darkness, with me still curled up on the couch...posting. I have forgotten to eat, because I was too busy posting. I have lost days on end, too busy posting. 

    I bring my smart phone with me everywhere I go. I bring it with me to restaurants, family get togethers, grocery stores, convenience stores, you name it ... my phone and I are there, joined at the hip. We never unhook. Addicted: and I know it. 

   I am going to challenge myself. No smart phone, no posting for a solid month. A solid month. Let's see how this goes.

   Seven o'clock the next morning my eyes snap open. Same thing every morning. Automatically, my eyes open right up at 7 am. Wide awake. Been my habit for years. I get up, splash some water on my face. Shrug into my robe and head downstairs. I walk over to my smart phone. Reach for it, and freeze. 

    That's right, I tell myself. No smart phone, and no posting for one month.

   Of course, I still have a landline. So, if I really need to get in touch with anyone, I certainly can. And anyone who really needs to get in touch with me, certainly can. 

   Maybe I should have told people about my decision, but if I am busy with my smart phone.....which I usually am....everyone knows they can reach me on my landline.They've done it before. Many times....in fact. This is a self-test. Not for public consumption.

    I head for the kitchen and the coffee pot. I usually post while waiting for the coffee. Not this time. I sit down at the kitchen table feeling at a loss, a little jittery. My hands feel empty. For a few minutes I am actually drumming my fingers. 

   I need to make some breakfast. Busy is the word for the day. I need to keep myself busy. That is key. 

 I feel out of place in my own kitchen. This is not my usual routine.

    I open the bread box and select an everything bagel. I open the fridge and grab the butter and the cream cheese. 

    The coffee machine beeps and I eagerly pour myself a cup. I like coffee strong and black. I gave up dairy years ago. No big sacrifice. Easy to do. I begin to feel pretty good about all this. I finish my bagel and pour myself a second cup of coffee. 

This is a good thing.

    By nine o'clock I am pacing like a caged tiger. I need something to do, I have the whole day ahead of me. It usually seems way too short. Now it seems way too long.

I'll do some shopping, Instead of having everything delivered, I will actually go out and do the buying myself. I usually have everything delivered. Makes life easier. 

    I get dressed, fix my hair, put on a little makeup and head for the front door. I drive a Mini Cooper, and I am in my car and pulling out of the driveway, in a matter of seconds. 

   First stop, the local drug store for a few toiletries. Or, as I like to think of them; Very real necessities. I shop the hair products aisle. Throw a few things into my cart. A few new products that I feel like trying. Next aisle, the makeup section. Who doesn't need a little makeup? A person could get lost for days in this part of the store. Next stop: health and nutrition. Who would skip this section? Who doesn't want to be healthy? Silly question. 

   My cart is half full. Two more aisles to go. I keep right on going. I feel absolutely liberated as I push my shopping cart up and down the aisles! I am actually enjoying myself. I need to do this more often. My cart is half full. I love the displays, the bright colors, the advertisements. It is all so well done! I feel like I am in my element. In total control, and really having a grand old time! 

    I push my cart to the cash register, vaguely smile at the cashier and open my purse to use the counter top card reader. Now granted, it does come to quite a bit more than I thought....but why not? I am kicking a habit, and this is helping me to do it. I carry my bags out to my car. I toss them into the boot, and pull out and into traffic.

   Where to......next? I head down the main stretch looking about. I pass a clothing store that looks interesting. Funny, I think to myself, I don't remember seeing that particular store. So, I pull into a parking space, lock the car, and enter to the sound of a jingling bell.  

     Racks upon racks of clothing. Dresses and slacks and blouses and nightwear, all nicely displayed. I leave hours later carrying five bags. What a day I am having! I should have done this long ago. 

   By then I have worked up an appetite, so I head back to a little bistro that I drove past earlier. I order a sandwich with chips, and a cup of tea. I look at my watch, my meal finished, as I sip my tea, and realize it is heading toward evening. Gotta get going. I pay my bill, walk out the door and climb into my car. I fasten my seatbelt, and head for home. 

   I unpack the car and look at all my purchases. The couch is soon buried under the sheer amount of everything I have bought. 

   While I am unpacking the car, I pass my smart phone five times and never even look at it. I am disciplined. As I begin to look through my purchases, the landline phone begins to ring. I grab the receiver and hold it to my ear. "Hello," I say. 

   "Lisa, is that you?"

I recognize Janet, one of the tellers from my bank.  

"We have a problem. Do you have your debit card? Someone may have stolen your card. And they have been spending like crazy most of the day. I know you only get a pensioner's check, and now your account is almost down to zero. Please check and make sure you do have your debit card? If not, we'll close down the card and we'll issue you a new one. Lisa, are you there? Lisa"......... 

  I am now sitting on the floor, with my hands over my face and the phone in my lap. I need to face this. In trying to walk away from one dependency, I started to cultivate another. This was not a challenge. This was just a trade. 

   "No," I respond to the woman from my bank. "It's alright. It was me. Everything's fine."

   I can't hang up fast enough. I don't have time to wonder what she thinks. I have bigger fish to fry. I grab my smart phone. Enough bars. I begin to search for a nearby counseling center. Hands trembling slightly, I type in the number and take a deep breath.

    I am grateful for my smart phone. But I intend to talk to a counselor about that, too. To the counselor. This is going to be a real challenge. Not a self test. An actual challenge. The first step. Before I answer the person on the other end, I wish myself luck. 

     " Hello,," I say. " I'd like to make an appointment."