It was a rainy Tuesday night and knowing my day was going to get worse sooner than better, I threw in the towel for the day and crawled into bed. As I laid down ready to scroll through my Netflix queue, I heard a loud smack. I instantly recognized the noise and felt chills run through my body as the panic set in. The screen of my beautiful 64 GB space gray iPhone 6 was now replaced with a sheet of shattered glass. Instantly remembering I had insurance and mentally thanking my father for paying the extra 10.99 a month, I frantically had a friend drive me to AT&T. Once there I was told my phone had to be shipped to me but it would be overnighted, and my mind was instantly at ease. I didn’t end up with a new phone in my hand until 6 days later. Why the phone was not overnighted to me is still a mystery, and my name will likely forever be feared by those customer service agents. This tale however is about those 6 days that I had to survive college without my 64GB space gray iPhone 6.
On the very first day I felt lost. Devastated. I was an empty shell of who I used to be. I kept reaching for the empty space in my purse where my best friend used to be. Every person I encountered had to hear about the incident, I even wrote about it in a short response question for Math. I brought my laptop everywhere and viciously checked my social media while I had the Wi-Fi. I was embarrassed, sad, and felt like my entire world fell apart.
Two days later my sadness transformed into anger. Anger at AT&T, at my parents, at Steve Jobs, Paws-Secure, the bus driver, even a precious guide dog in training for being adorable when I couldn’t add it to my story. I was also overcome with intense jealousy when I saw all of my friends laughing at a tweet, snapping a selfie or calling their mom, the simple things in life I could no longer enjoy. I didn’t know why this had happened to me, and I couldn’t stop thinking of the times I had with my 64GB space gray iPhone 6 that I took for granted during the good old days.
Four days later while strolling through North Campus, no longer having my eyes glued to my phone screen I realized how beautiful our school was. I walked past the exact same view every single day and I never even noticed because I was too busy texting my best friend. It made me think back to all of the other beautiful views I’ve seen and memories I’ve made. Skiing the Alps, surfing in Portugal, the top of the Tokyo Tower, building a cabin in Denali National Park, my golden miniature dachshund running towards me when I opened my front door, every single memory had one thing in common. They had nothing to do with my phone. With that realization I went to my first UGA football game without my 64GB space gray iPhone 6 and didn’t once have the urge to cry.
Six days later, my phone arrived. I looked back on all of my angry calls, tweets and emails to AT&T customer service and laughed at myself for obsessing over something so silly. It’s pretty embarrassing that it took shattering my phone when I clumsily tossed it aside and let it fly off my bunk bed to realize how little my phone actually does for me, but a tiny part of me is happy that I finally understood what my parents said about “our generation”. We become so reliant on our precious sidekicks that we forget to just take a moment in and do things for ourselves, not so we can post about it later. Now, I won’t sit here and say that I no longer need a phone and that I’m never using it again… I’m a teenage girl. I have needs. The first thing I did when I saw that package was sprint the 6 flights of stairs to my room and take a selfie. Technology does wonderful things, it keeps us connected with our Grandparents who live in Japan and our parents who live in Alaska. However, I know now how much we miss out on when we let ourselves rely on something as trivial as a 4.7 inch phone screen. I still check my instagram and tweet an occasional funny anecdote for my faithful followers, but now when I’m out and about my 64GB space gray iPhone 6 stays tucked away in the side pocket of my purse instead of in my hand.