It’s one of those days where you suspect either your e-mail server is conspiring against you, or you’ve unwittingly done something truly horrible that’s led to collective anger and boycott on the part of every friend, family member, and personal contact capable of dropping you a written message. The occasional overhyped notifications of travel “deals” and save-the-dates, courtesy of some cultural institution, that you wish were interesting enough to bother about, don’t in any way help to convince you that some hidden filter is not, in fact, keeping all relevant and/or intriguing deliveries hidden in some dark corner of the internet, being held for ransom for reasons unknown to you. And, it being a slow day at work, Lumosity’s Word Bubbles can only keep you from wondering for so long what the hell’s going on.
Since I’m one of the last people on this planet who neither has a Facebook account, a smartphone, nor the capacity to text, I’m left with limited resources, where mindless distractions and updating myself on people’s movements are concerned. For the most part, this is good; for one thing, how much more freaked out and/or bored would I be if nothing were going on on social media? For another, that little part of me that holds onto hope for homo sapiens dies every day on the way to work as I pass by clueless, open-mouthed pedestrians so caught up in whatever’s going on on their iPhones that they look more zombie than human, and, taking on the locomotive practices of drugged snails, clog up the sidewalk traffic to boot. I have zero desire to play self-enabler either to low-grade paranoia or to the decline in attention span or mental faculties in general that constant connection brings with it.
And yet, hey, here I am, wiling away my time online as I hover over an empty inbox, trying to remember what it was like to go through entire days or weeks being completely at ease with non-instant responses to casual queries. Demon technology. It’s turned even the semi-luddites among us into restless loonies.