I’m thinking very hard

About life before smartphones.

Sitting here in my time machine

Going back

To the age of Aquarius

And the analogue telephone

And calling the Operator.

Spinning back

To the Days

Before texts

Or the Internet.

Back to the so-called ‘simple life.’

But wait a minute.

Was it simple, or just way more protracted?

Funny how nostalgia romanticises things like fax machines and sitting at home for hours waiting for the phone to ring, isn’t it.

That said, everyone seems to be in a dreadful rush these days.

I’m consciously working on slowing down, de-contaminating my life from constant phone checking. The instant rush of pressing ‘publish’ on a blog post followed by a yearning for thick and fast ‘loves’ to keep that high fed can be agony. It takes its toll. Becomes painfully repetitive.

And let’s not forget all those polluted evenings and weekends in real life spent ‘just sending a quick reply’ to work colleagues.

I said I’m working on it.

But

I’m addicted

To the buzz

The immediacy

Fearful of missing out

On breaking news

About what you’re wearing today

Or just had for breakfast

Or the fact your baby just did a loud fart

And let’s not forget your daily running stats, you hot, sexy, fitness machine.

Uggh.

I’m pretty much too busy updating Twitter to notice, but it seems that I’m not alone in this perpetual state of rush.

In recent times at work, for example, we were coached in the art of not replying to client emails for a minimum of three hours after receipt of instruction.

The reason for doing this was two fold:

1) setting a slower expectation on turnaround time for the client; and

2) preventing us from just firing off any old shit that came to mind without thinking it all through properly.

There had been a spate of professional negligence claims created by emails being batted backwards and forwards at lightening speed.

The evolution of this crack pot office culture meant that priorities were skewed.

How fast the lawyer could play ping pong, irrespective of quality, was deemed to be infinitely more important to someone faced with a court order than the application of actual legal problem solving ability.

Until clients started going to jail.

Slowing things down a bit seems an obvious solution to better managing client expectations and outcomes. But it drove both sides bonkers. Illicit ping pong continued, whilst many others resorted to requesting straight jackets to prevent them re-offending.

Rushing is now the norm and therefore the pressure.

Needless to say, this go-slow policy died a death pretty quickly, as even the boss couldn’t resist the lure of instant messaging.

As it goes, I’m actually a big believer in going with gut instinct, but heaven forbid if we let our brains catch up.

I can’t really remember what thinking empty thoughts actually feels like. When the opportunity arises, I’m usually too annoyed about being in a signal black spot.

It’s just the way it is!

Heck, I’m even doing it now. Tapping away writing this post on my smartphone whilst sitting on the toilet.

I’m just so busy, dammit.

Yet we all know that a watched pot never boils, don’t we.

Can somebody please tell me where the finishing line in this race is?

It’s just that I’ve been running for a helluva long time and I’m starting to get pretty bloody tired.

[Image source: unknown]

