Last week my iPhone broke. To be fair it’s been one impressive companion with me the last year and a half. It’s survived countless drops onto concrete or carpet, a drop down the toilet, a quick dip in the bath, a shattered screen, and countless knocks on the wall or chair because I’ve gotten frustrated with its slowness (albeit these knocks probably did the opposite of what I wanted and actually contributed to making the phone slower).
The latest break, and the final one, came from the last scenario – it was slowly on its way out with none of the mod cons working on it anymore…it didn’t ring, it only vibrated sporadically when noone was calling. It didn’t lock. It didn’t do a bunch of other stuff but I can’t remember what. But it did still work…slowly. But then last week I was in a rush, house hunting, and trying to let a girl know I’d missed the train so would be late (yep, this is how I often roll). I dropped my phone and then the sim was nowhere to be found. It was in there but the phone wouldn’t take none of it. It did this. It just suddenly would decide there is no sim in there. All it took was
ten knocks a knock on the metal chair to try and get it to register and it was dead…bright white screen, caput.
It was unfixable so yesterday I found myself in a shop getting a new iPhone 5. It was the most common sense option on my tariff and it came an upgrade. Of course I could have just gotten a 20pence Nokia brick from the man down the road in his phone
shed shop but I didn’t…this was an option for a milli second and one only a few years ago I would have done. But nope, I’m an Apple girl now.
I bought an indestructible case two minutes after buying the phone. Me and two shop assistants took about twenty minutes – literally – to get the frickin’ thing open and then another ten minutes – literally – getting it onto my phone. So no breaks or shattered screens here, people. I notice I’m secretly chuffed with my kick-ass-chunky-mother-fucker-bring-it-on phone. So chuffed that I smile when it’s dropped (yep in the fourteen hours I’ve owned the phone, it’s fallen gently from my bedside table – no biggy).
It’s a weird thing this technology thing though. Somehow the equipment defines your ability. Like, now I’ve got this iPhone 5, I feel capable, successful, content, and invincible (maybe that’s due to the case). I woke up this morning and dived for it, immediately checking emails and doing things. I felt so much like a business woman, I wanted something to do…but there wasn’t anything so I downloaded the Guardian and pretended to read that for a bit. But then I just checked Facebook/Instagram over and over. And then I was about to play some Tetris when I thought I would use it for some proper stuff and write this post. Yeah, me and ma new phone are writing this, folks.
My old phone was as slow as a butterbean stew, but this one is as fast as a deep fried square of Camembert. I can feel my brain and my body trying to keep up, trying to keep up. I’m charged full of adrenaline as I use it – speedily clicking things, writing things, to try and match the speed it can go. I’m fucking knackered. And, I can feel my techno hit about to crash.
So before I properly do, I’m going to go eat some breakfast and have a shower – all with none of this speed of light technology. For now I feel my life is complete, I’m happy and have all I need, and I feel like a highly successful business woman with my brand spanking phone. The fact that the main business I do is Instagram is besides the point.
In a day or so, or maybe a week, this feeling of pure contentment and happiness may disappear and I may realise I can never quite match the speed of the phone. I may develop RSI and frequent headaches, but I’m an Apple girl now and this is how I roll. I’m secretly looking forward to this day this crash comes because I’m flippin knackered already, but for now I’m going to enjoy my techno hit high whilst it lasts.
Or maybe I’ll just keep buying new iPhones to reinforce this feeling of success and contentment and capability…or maybe not.