WHEN I LEFT my old job a couple of weeks ago, I had to turn in my BlackBerry. I won’t lie. I was attached to it; so much so that my daughter, Eve, once caught me scrolling through it when I was supposed to be asleep.
She called it my electronic wife.
I bristled at the time, but looking back, I think Eve might have been right. My BlackBerry was much more than my phone. She was my confidante. I told her where I was going and when I had to be there. She knew who I called, texted and emailed. She even knew what time I got up in the morning. But alas, our relationship is over, and as much it hurts me to write this, I’ve had to move on.
I thought when I got a younger, slimmer electronic wife, I’d be happier. But I can’t relate to this new girl. She’s just too complicated.
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(Featured illustration by Richard Harrington)