The Piece of Glass

Somehow my life has become reduced to a rectangle of plastic and glass that I hold in my palm.

When I first got it, I both mourned the actual clickable buttons of the obsolete Blackberry and longed to stroke the smooth glass screen of my brand new iPhone 4.

Now there are days when I want to use the piece of glass to tell the world something, but I tap and I tap and nothing happens. It can reduce an adult human to tears. It's now a 5S. I guess this matters.

Why? When the glass is unresponsive, I feel like a chimpanzee.

Because there is a social expectation now that we will respond, to anyone's request, no matter when it was made.

I take back my boundaries.

I love you, my friends, but the 24/7 nature of communication is more than I can bear, so as not to be rude, I take my leave. I just can't. Keep. Up.

I typed this all out on a little glass box. How odd.