It turns out that the first thing to throw me about my new found “adventure” was not the relatively late wake-up time (slept in until almost 6am, thank you very much!), and it wasn’t the lack of frantic emails on a Sunday night about the work week. It was my missing Blackberry.
I have perfected the roll and check. Typically, the alarm would sound at around 4:30am (technically, 4:33am because I’m weird that way). After the customary round of “why God why” was completed, I would roll over and check my Blackberry to see what the day would hold. But that sounds too banal. It really was a thing of beauty. Clearly, my advanced dance background has something to do with the grace and extension involved in plucking the device from the nightstand.
Today, I woke at 5:55am without panic. Intellectually, I knew that I had nowhere to be. Instinctually, however, I executed my roll, extend, hold and… got nothing. There was a moment of genuine consternation.
I sat up.
My Blackberry was gone.
Oh, right. New Life. New world. New adventure.
But… um… who am I without my Blackberry?
Sure, I hated the incessant buzzing and flashing red lights. It interrupted everything and all the time—vacation time, sleep time, Californication set time (unacceptable!)… But I realize that it was also shorthand with people: that’s right, I’m employed and “important” because only someone truly vital to their organization would be this constantly in demand and/or connected to a small, annoying electronic device. It became part of my identity. I was always checking it.
And now I’m… uh…not sure exactly…
But it’s only Day 1 of the new life. One step at a time. There is bound to be some separation anxiety in this transition, right? Eventually, my hands will stop shaking, and I will find a new device to bolster my ego and hide behind—I mean, a new and better purpose…obviously.
Just out of curiosity, though, is there therapy for this sort of thing?