I have trouble sleeping at night. I keep the TV going, phone next to my head and computer at arms reach. I close my eyes, a tiny little hammer strikes a bell and a piercing ring followed by a long buzzing vibration reminds me that the whole world is passing me by. I grab my phone, login to Facebook and see that someone has Liked the photo of my dinner from earlier. I take advantage of the moment to update my status Cant sleep, whos up?... FML then I scroll down my newsfeed to see if anyone has shared anything worthwhile. A few minutes later, fluorescent light still bouncing off the walls of my dark room, a little red flag alerts me that 3 people have liked my status within the last 5 minutes. I smile, glad Im not the only one awake. My eyes are killing me. I check to make sure my alarm has been set, double check, then rollover and see the blinking cable box. In flashing blue light it tauntingly dances 2:30 am. I close my eyes. Every morning when I wake up, I clumsily and grumpily slide out of bed. I then stumble to the bathroom, phone in hand, lean it against the wall next to the sink, turn on Pandora and brush my teeth. Today a sudden impulse to capture this moment comes over me. I open Snapchat and take a selfie. Red, sleep swollen eyes, disheveled hair, toothbrush in hand and foaming toothpaste dripping down my chin, stupid half smile with a caption that reads How bout them pearly whites?. Showcasing my sarcasm. I send this to my best friend who lives 50 feet down the hallway. Finishing the morning routine, I open the blinds to let a little sun through the window. What a beautiful sunrise. Shades of burning pink, orange and red battling the dark and smokey morning clouds, mixing at points to a deep and brooding purple. I take a picture and post it to Facebook and Instagram. I decide to grab breakfast at Wendys with my friend Danny (the best friend). He offers to drive me to work. Its a quiet ride with minimal small talk about nothing in particular. Its almost 8:00 a.m. and as predicted morning traffic wants me to starve. I spend the duration of the ride, inch by inch, either looking out the window, or staring a hole through my phone trying for the life of me to think of something profound to tweet in 140 characters or less. Something my followers will appreciate and potentially retweet. My stomach is folding over on itself, enhancing my tweeters block and destroying the creative process. I give up. I comment on the weather more or less thinking out loud. No response. Danny is swiping through the DMA on theChive. Its a red-light. It was posted 20 minutes before hand and somebody had shared it on my newsfeed. Riding passenger its safe to assume I had already seen it. Breakfast. Finally…A greasy bag sits between my legs stuffed full of all the delicious, fat-oozing, cholesterol loaded sustenance my heart has been craving. Drooling, I unwrap my first victim, set him down and take a picture. I post it to spread envy among all of my Wendy-less friends. Danny and I take a selfie, breakfast sandwiches in hand, mouths stuffed, sunglasses on. Robotically I give it a caption and hashtag. Its already on Facebook and Instagram, in the process of uploading to my Tinder account and being Snapped to all of my contacts. Its a quiet ride to work. There isnt much work to be done at work sometimes. When this happens I look to theChive for entertainment. I pull that up on the computer, Tinder up on my phone, and alternate between swiping through women I think are attractive or not and laughing at stupid people on the internet. Secretly hoping that I get a match soon to break up the monotony of my loneliness. I go out to lunch with a few guys from the office. As soon as we are seated, 3 out of 5 of us are on their phones. I dont know what theyre doing, but I could guess. Our waitress is visibly irritated today. The table has bouts of silence in-between plastic vibrating on its hardwood surface. I notice our waitress in a back corner of the restaurant, soured face lit by her phone. Shes probably fighting with her boyfriend in a heated texting battle. Fingers tapping so fast they blur in the light. Eventually she comes over to take our order. 15 minutes have elapsed and Im sure 1 or 2 of us still havent taken the time to look at the menu. Its now 5:30, Danny and I are riding home. More traffic. My phone is in my lap attached to a black, curly-cued charger, worn and frayed from use. Im surprised my battery lasted until the end of the day. I usually need a midday charge. I look at my phone every couple of minutes. Its force of habit these days. Im sure Danny would too if he werent so disciplined behind the wheel. He waits until we hit the stoplights or pause in traffic. We talk a little bit about the day. Typical office politics mixed with complaints. The usual. Theres a wreck on our exit. I update my status to spread the information. My friends will appreciate this. 6:45, we pull into the parking garage. I stop and look out towards the street in front of my building and see people waiting for the bus. Danny says his goodbye and walks on. I say thanks for the ride. The air is still; cars pass by; the only noise is the humming of their engines and other miscellaneous sounds of life in the city. Everyone of those people standing out there completely oblivious, faces lit up in that sickly, artificial glow. None of them speaking, headphones in, fingers tapping. I wonder if I look like that. The sun is setting. Shadows slowly envelope every crack and crevice in the concrete that I swear feels more alive than I do.
Posted on: Thu, 17 Jul 2014 04:15:56 +0000
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