I wish to think about my iPhone as a involved good friend. One keen to host an intervention if it have been bodily able to doing so. It might have a cute sympathetic furrowed forehead and a peaceful, nonjudgmental tone telling me to sit.
My notes app alone accommodates some fairly bizarre content material. It’s principally an archive of poorly curated ideas I simply needed to jot down earlier than I overlook — fully fragmented and out of context. Amidst a grocery record, beside chocolate soy milk and cleansing wipes, there‘ll be an inspirational quote I heard in a podcast on the best way to the shop I felt compelled to jot down down. I.e. “the hero and the coward both feel the same thing……Q tips, Mexican oregano, tampons, green juice.”
Truthfully, my telephone is aware of each aspect of my weirdness. My habit to scrolling by Instagram, my behavior of deleting it and redownloading it, typically hours later. My drafted texts to the man I like, perfecting my phrase alternative for optimum wit and adorability.
My telephone’s seen each ugly selfie I’ve taken and solely despatched to my roommates. Like that certainly one of me with a face masks that made me look precisely like Jim Carey’s Grinch. Like precisely. It is aware of my responsible pleasure non-public Spotify playlists. That one with Aly & AJ, Fergie and old fashioned Kelly Rowland that’s solely cranked earlier than massive conferences or interviews.
I may go on and on. However let me hand it over to my telephone, Morgan’s iPhone (I ought to actually choose a cuter identify). I’ll let him intervene with some sympathetic phrases of recommendation:
Woman, cease attempting VSCO filter your life. Reside it up unedited. Cease looking for the proper caption for all of life’s moments. Cease attempting to appear like an Australian Instagram mannequin. Be extra ugly. Make extra ugly faces. Cease rewatching your Instagram tales, you’re not that cool.
Significantly, put me down from time to time. You don’t want me to go get your laundry. Or truthfully anyplace that doesn’t require GPS. Depart me at house. Give me a break!
I’m at all times right here silently judging your entire dietary decisions.
You’re a scholar based on your listening stage on Audible, and I’m so happy with your tutorial achievements. And truthfully, judging by the podcasts always draining my battery, you’re a freaking genius. Even the man on the Apple Retailer attempting to filter out your storage was impressed by your huge assortment of audio content material.
TBH, I really like you, weirdo. However we want more room. Spend much less time googling “Where do Hailey and Justin eat in Brooklyn” and “When does the new Queer Eye season come out” and take a break out of your units. I’m bored with operating on low battery. I would like self care. I have to be up to date!
Sincerely, Morgan’s iPhone.