Dopamine Mo(u)rning

6:39am. 81 minutes till work.

buzzzzzz……...buzzzzzz……...buzzzzzz

Your phone lights up.

Your brain tingles.

Drool drips onto your pajama shirt. You stare at your phone so Big Brother’s Face ID will let you in. It doesn’t recognize you at first: the screen shakes. You think it’s because you’re trying to log in while laying sideways. You hope this is true; otherwise, it’s possible you’ve really let go. Your pants have been feeling snug for the past couple weeks, right? You haven’t shaved in a week either. Time to sign up for a gym, bud. Get in shape! You squint closely at the camera again and — voila — you’re in. All whiffs of self evaluation evaporate.

Three rounded bubbles overlap on your glowing screen. It’s Jennifer from some mysterious — likely state-sponsored — 1-800 number offering you a “one time only offer” for some mysterious health & wellness potions. You won’t give away your personal details to some scammer. You’re better than that. “Over my dead body,” you mutter to yourself as you upload your DNA to the dark web 23andMe.

Your adrenaline flatlines. The high is over. What could have been a savage meme awaiting your peer review is now nothing. What a rough start to the day…what if your entire day goes like this? Meme after meme turning to dust. The phone-addicted fiend that you are, you need a fix to replace the endorphins that could’ve been. Maybe some Tik Tok dopamine injections? Maybe some long form YouTube? Maybe Threads if you have no self respect? X? You dirty masochist.

You shake things up and look at the news. Harvard President Claudine Gay resigns. “Wow, thank goodness I didn’t go to Harvard,” you celebrate. Your SAT score was garbage. Admissions officers didn’t miss out.

You browse some headlines: depression, war horror, depression, happ- turned to tragedy, more sadness. The home page is too much. Ever the fashionista you click to the Style section. Flannel with cargo shorts are in. You vomit.

7:32 am. 28 minutes till work.

You start to brush your teeth while changing clothes. You stumble and try to grab the edge of your bathroom countertop, but your hand slips on the slippery phone screen. There’s enough momentum to send your phone trickling to the edge of the counter before it finally falls to the ground like a rock. You bang your hip on the ground as your arm reactively outstretches to break your fall. The phone hits the ground screen-face-down a moment after you do. It shatters.

Every meme, K-pop anthem, reality show now unattainable, the world darkens. Without your phone what personality remains? You can talk about your baby nephew?! Does that bring clout??

You army crawl to your phone, exercising obliques you didn’t know you had. Flipping over the phone there’s a moment of faith. Maybe God really does exist. You lift your phone directly up, but your screen detaches and lays on the ground unmoving. Your phone is dead. Like really dead. Not even a $50 screen replacement can fix this. This is Genius Bar bad.

You see yourself going into the Apple Store to get it fixed, shame rushing through your body because you know they’ll ask with a smirk, “dropped your phone huh?” Shame. Absolute shame. You could lie but you couldn’t play a hand of Texas hold ‘em to save your life. Stevie Wonder could see your tells. You bow your head and admit, “yes, I dropped my phone.” The store erupts in laughter. Scores of people come up to you, laughing. You blush. Someone says you’re blushing, making it even worse. Your worst nightmare is here. Now.

You snap out of it and realize you might still have Apple Care. You’ve never prayed this hard in your life. You look up old photos on your computer trying to pinpoint when you bought the phone. You look up Apple Care policies online. Of course, it’s right on the cusp. Do they include weekends in the day count? Yes, they must. Tim Cook couldn’t possibly be that mean. If you get to the store today it might be alright.

7:50am. 10 minutes till work.

You scramble to your kitchen to put a quick breakfast together.

buzzzzzz……...buzzzzzz……...buzzzzzz

Your work phone lights up.

Your brain tingles.