Granted, it’s probably unfair for me to expect all of my gadgets to work for me all of the time, right? Wrong!—my mind says—Why do I spend so much MONEY on all of these things in order for them to go kaput within a year?
Here’s a fun little situation you can probably relate to:
The Stage: Me in my apartment alone during various hours of the day spanning weeks and seasons of the year.
Hovered over an old white and silver device, I’m cursing loudly to no one in particular, my eyes fixed on the item in my had. I sporadically shake it in the air in desperation. I hold it up to my ear feebly in an attempt to discern the minute noises issuing from its thin frame and then press a series of buttons at once—Reset, goddamnit! Reset! The device clicks back at me stubbornly. On the glowing screen of my laptop, attached by a thin white cord, the menu of my Itunes reads IPOD SYNC FAILED.
Would I like to whip it out of a sixth story window onto a paved parking lot? You bet your ass. But will I? No. Sadly, I’m still clinging to the pathetic hope that it will come back to me someday, like some rebellious child who realized that rent is really expensive and living off of ramen noodles and hallucinogens isn’t actually as cool as they thought.
I would also love to bash to pieces every single electronic item in my parents’ home. My dad becomes unnaturally attached to his electronic devices. He also doesn’t believe in letting things go to waste, and especially not that god-forsaken, worthless stereo system with speakers that fall in and out of function. CD player that only plays half the time? Check! Laptop that’s so old it doesn’t register Wi-Fi? Check! A flat screen TV that mysteriously turns off in the middle of a gripping Lifetime movie? Check! Me, a baseball bat, and my dad’s 20-year-old receiver? CHECK.
Another fantasy of mine concerns completely destroying my laptop. Because I work with a lot of small business, and do a lot of work online as a blog writer, my clients often inquire as to whether or not I can also do little technological tasks for them online. And I, stupidly, say “yes.” Almost every time I accept the challenge of one of these projects, I end up near tears after spending two hours reading “Easy” guides to coding a Facebook fan page, downloading a specific plugin, etc.
Let’s not even get started on the viruses you accrue when you spend all day in social media, not to mention the legend of the “warranty”.
Although technology has caused me a lot of headaches, I’ll still be the first to admit that I’m addicted to my smart phone, practice Facebook voyeurism, and would die if the internet went out in my apartment. So I guess, for me, the tradeoff’s worth it.