I love my phone. It’s shiny. It tells me how high to benchmark my self-esteem. It shrivels whatever part of my brain keeps me attentive. What’s not to love? I’m a technology addict. Not in the I-am-a-tech-savante-who-dreams-in-code kind of way. More like a Curios George monkey-seeing-a-magic-trick kind of way. My daily phone screen time averages 4 hours/day in a good week, and I’ll be honest, I’m ashamed to tell you what it is on a bad week.
Technology Should’ve Stopped at Texts
Technology Should’ve Stopped at Texts
Technology Should’ve Stopped at Texts
I love my phone. It’s shiny. It tells me how high to benchmark my self-esteem. It shrivels whatever part of my brain keeps me attentive. What’s not to love? I’m a technology addict. Not in the I-am-a-tech-savante-who-dreams-in-code kind of way. More like a Curios George monkey-seeing-a-magic-trick kind of way. My daily phone screen time averages 4 hours/day in a good week, and I’ll be honest, I’m ashamed to tell you what it is on a bad week.