You Take a Piece of Me With You

I get a weekly report of how much time I spend on my phone and it’s horrifying. A lot of that I think, hope, is phone time. And I yak on the phone a lot FOR WORK. The others are spent scrolling. I’m not going to lie. If I were a teenager, I would never do anything else except scroll, pluck my eyebrows and drink kahlua and creme. Then I found out that you can put restrictions on your phone. I gave myself 15 minutes per platorm. When you reach the limit, they ask if you want more time. That’s like asking an alcoholic if he wants another shot. Reader, I blew through my time limits. I used to read in bed before I went to sleep now I watch middle aged couples line dance on Tik Tok. I used to read on the subway, now I scroll through Keanu Reeves pictures on instagram. I used to sit on a park bench and read. Now I listen to podcasts and scroll. I feel I should go to Social Media Rehab. Take away my device, let me sweat it out, kick the covers, all that bullshit. I want my mind back.

What’s your social media drug of choice?