Years ago I interviewed for a newspaper job in a state that allows gambling. This newspaper, btw, put me up in a fancy hotel for three nights, published two stories I wrote on demand and DID NOT HIRE ME. I digress.

I was reminded of my time there recently as I mourned the impending doom of my phone, a weak-battery-Waze-killing-can’t-save-voicemails iPhone 4 that I curse everyday. Don’t laugh. This is an actual thing that stresses me out.

To my knowledge, I was the last one of my close peers to get a smartphone. There were no financial or political reasons for this. Perhaps I feared the upgrade in technology but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t overcome. No, my chief reason for not getting a smartphone until 2013 is the same reason I don’t have a fitbit or subscribe to Netflix: I didn’t want to become obsessed. Psychiatrists may diagnose otherwise, but I have it on pretty good authority that I suffer from a mild compulsive disorder (please, ask me about my eyebrows someday.) I knew the moment that I got a smartphone (or iPad) that I could play with all the time, something else would suffer.

Back to the job. I got over the slight of not being hired, but you know what really haunts me about that time? The $20 I gambled while I was there. I took $20 and turned it into $200 in an hour during an incredibly lucky Blackjack streak. What a rush—it scared the pants off me. I pictured myself living in this town with no friends and no money and the arrogance that I could turn $20 into $200 at any given time. No thanks!

There are so many aspects of my personality that make me seem fun but upon closer inspection can be traced back to this trait. One more round? Sure! But please know, that after 3, I see no difference between, 3, 4, 5 or 10. Guacamole? Why have one chip when you can have 100? Have you heard the soundtrack to Hamilton? Well, if you’re not interested, don’t hang around me. I am currently listening to it Non-stop. (Pun intended.) The list goes on. I used to think it made me fun, now it makes me want therapy. Why must everything be ALL OR NOTHING?

I’ve already lost so much of my attention span in the name of technology that a part of me just needs to hold out as long as I can on certain things. This isn’t false nobility. There are times when I am watching television where I can’t go five minutes without reaching for Google. I get this burning need to know RIGHT NOW what other projects I’ve seen this or that actor in. This isn’t just me sitting on my couch. I’ve hijacked entire conversations because of this compulsion. Was William Henry Harrison the 9th or 10th president? Why is Phoenix the capital of Arizona? I loathe myself when this awkward yet demanding curiosity rears itself.

So yes, I need to pace myself with the new technology. On the one hand, thank you lord for e-readers and their ability to blow up fonts for my tired eyes. But music? Oh how the way I enjoy music has changed. A song here, a download there. A reckless indifference to 80 percent of the CDs I still own. But then all the beloved podcasts that have enhanced my life so considerably. There are some days- gasp- I don’t even think about music. so yeah, it’s complicated.

Over the last few years, I’ve rededicated myself to the library. Got a record player. Started writing the occasional letter by hand. Movies in the theatre have always been a pleasure but now they’re an indulgent way to break up with my phone for a few hours. Even this writing space, which owes its existence to the internets, is an exercise in How I Used To Be. I carry a notebook, jot ideas down. It all helps but the urge to be online is always there.

And so I mourn that soon I will have to get a new phone and learn it and generally enjoy all sorts of wonderfulness. I’ll take lots of silly pictures and share them at the table because I’m just like everyone else. We’re all just like everyone else.

Musical inspiration? The Stones!