I have come to realise that I have an addictive personality. It was pointed out to me last night by my other (read, better) half, that I stare at my phone way too much. Upon hearing this, I had a bit of a strop, flounced off upstairs to take a bath (great bath bomb thing, as an aside, shaped like a little Christmas pudding) and after sulking for ten minutes, came to the realisation that my beloved actually had a point.
I didn’t like to admit this to myself (it has been said that I take criticism badly). It still rankles when I remember my parents telling me to apologise to someone after a fall out when I was little…ow, the pain and humiliation of saying sorry!! I am a lot better these days, however, and I scuttled downstairs (after leaving my darling phone in the bedroom) to make amends.
I have to say, once the deed had been done and the iPhone dispatched to my bedside table, I experienced a freeing sensation. I didn’t feel the need to constantly flick my eyes to the side to take a quick peek at the screen. I concentrated fully on the conversation I had with my eldest daughter (she is also a phone addict and is currently facing a proposed household post-dinner phone amnesty with fear and trepidation), we caught up with American X-Factor, and discussed it with zest and enthusiasm (we don’t get out much), rather than interspersing our viewing with frantic button pushing and finger scrolling. It was a relaxing time.
So, yet again, I must admit that my other half was right.
It’s getting to be pretty vice-free, my life these days. The booze has gone, as have the fags, no phone after dinner (until bedtime of course – got to catch up with my tweets at some time!!), very little chocolate, and Jason Vale’s vegetable juices for breakfast.
I hardly recognise myself. I am extremely happy.