1.21.14

Breakfast -  blueberry pop tarts

Lunch - turkey bacon cheese (homemade playa!)

Dinner - chicken alfredo

I'm addicted to my phone. I have no problem admitting that. It's 1am and I'm blogging... On my phone. Why? Because it provides me with a feeling more soothing than sleep itself. And that's how I know I have a problem.

I am making a conscious decision, right now, to take steps towards becoming less dependent on this thing. A lot of people are doing this and I want in. So here are my steps:

1) Less texting, more calling : this will remove the focus from a screen and reposition it on an actual human, not just a "..." sign.

2) Leave my phone in the car whenever possible. Walks with the dog, bike rides, dinner with friends. I don't need this. In case of emergency, I'm sure everyone else has their phone on them so I'll just borrow one. And yes, I still remember the important phone numbers by heart.

3) Battery Life. I charge this thing multiple times a day. Some of that is work related. A lot of it is twitter, Instagram, snapchat and Facebook related. I'm limiting myself to one charge a day.

4) Expectations. I'm a communicator and I expect people to expect me to communicate in a timely manner. I've worked hard to create a reputation as a person who is available and accessible to communicate at the disposal of others. But this is a PSA to manage your expectations. Unless it is work related or urgent, I am giving myself permission to neglect your text; to take my time in getting back to you. Not because you're not important, but because I'm missing out on right now.

That's the lie I've tricked myself into believing (my friend Harris III would be so proud). The lie that missing out on texts, tweets and filtered photos is more important than missing out on the present. And that posting how much fun I'm having to prove how much fun I'm having is more important than the fun I'm actually having. Guess what guys? I am a really fun guy. I do a lot of fun stuff. And that's all you need to know. Want to know more? Give me a call. FaceTime me. Come over and we'll bake cookies. But don't expect me to tweet about my dance parties in the kitchen.

My dog looks at me a lot. Half the time it's a look that says "Dude, com'on, it's time to put on some pants." But the other half it's a look that says "Be with me." 

Put the phone down and be with me. 

And I love her more than I love your Lo-Fi latte. Sorry, not sorry. Here's to taking an iBreak.

Adios