I’m not really a technological whiz. In fact, that’s probably being kind. The smartphone I have now (up until recently I called it an internet phone) is the first one I’ve ever owned (and I’ve only had it now for two years).
Despite my resistance to technology (honestly, it’s any site where people get too over-sharey), I can’t deny that this shit, generally speaking, is fucking incredible. It’s time-saving, life-changing shit we’re talking about.
I could go on and on about how and why that is, but you already know. The point of this is that usually (unless you’re my older brother and get the new model each and every time it comes out) when you’re getting a new phone, it’s been quite a while. You’re still rocking the Mesozoic era device and they’ve since rolled out three new models and six new system upgrades. You’re unsure what any of that means, but it suffices to say your battery is garbage and you can’t use Tinder without your device crashing—it’s time for a new one.
And so, you willingly enter your nightmare—your local wireless retailer—and plunk down at least $75 to return home with the shiniest of shiny new toys.
Once all the syncing and upgrading and account verifying and payment has been done, here you are… You’re new phone, nay, you’re new life awaits. And it’s just that… NEW. It’s new, it’s exciting. Everything from setting up your ringtone (if you’re still in middle school) to figuring out how to take a screenshot (something I still don’t know how to do on my phone).
Polar Opposite of This Feeling?: The period that comes a month (maybe sooner) later when you stop caring about the new phone, and treat it like the old, regular, uninteresting one you used to have and similarly didn’t care if it fell on the ground because who gives a shit about scratching the case anyway, right?