It was well past midnight when I finally made it to bed, much later than I had expected to. My journey to PillowTown had been delayed by the catastrophic discovery that my Nokia 2760 could no longer continue its brave struggle against time and fashionability.
I will miss your buttons and also that you were the size of my hand.
The situation was shocking in its expectedness. I had unknowingly missed out on receiving text messages for ten days (yet more evidence that I am a Popular And Social Person) and when Sid worked that out for me, the sudden flood of modern correspondence pushed that labouring heart to its limits, this time for good.
I spent a few hours with it today, smiling fondly at its worn edges and its perfect fit in my ridiculously small hand. Its buttons were more familiar to me in the dark than my own body, and each morning at the cold, 4am pee awakening, I knew just how many presses of the down button I needed to do to make it to the bathroom without having to assault my sleepy eyes with any other light source.
Inside me, a war was raging.
“It’s time, Bri”, reasoned one part of me.
“You’ve started a Twitter account, five million years after the rest of the world. It wasn’t so hard. Go. Go and get an iPhone”, she urged, shoving me in the back with her tiny peer pressure palms.
“Or, you could just get another one like this until you decide which smartphone you want”, said the other, more familiar part of me, clinging desperately to the comforts of a numberpad beneath her fingertips.
It really wasn’t a contest. I had started to avoid using my phone in public when Success is Measured By Having Things Bri had been let out of her cage following some superficial and generally self-administered blow to my ego.
The shop had run out of iPhones so I bought a Samsung Galaxy Something and proceeded to spent my entire night downloading apps, synchronising social media, and actively using the word ‘tweet’.
When I make changes in my life, they’re gargantuan.
Soon I will be Instagramming the shit out of boring shit and pretending anyone but me cares about it.
Just like I do with my cats.
And there it is; the sweet middle ground where the new changes meet the old routine and the transition from one to the other is effortless.