Phoneless and Free
I accidentally spent the whole day without my phone — and here’s what happened.
By Erin Mantz
Getting into the groove of a hybrid work schedule, I thought I had it all together for my commute into the office. Laptop, laptop cord, wallet, lipstick: check! But I made a big mistake.
As I boarded the train from my suburban station to my company’s office in the city, I instantly realized I had left my phone in the car. I was already on the train platform, and I could hear it whistling my way. I did some quick thinking. It would be a 25-minute train ride and a very long day without it, but I didn’t have time to go back now.
Smushing in, I braced myself and panicked. What would I do on the train without scrolling social media and playing Spelling Bee? How would I stay in touch with people all day without texts or phone calls? What if someone had to reach me for an emergency? And, if I stepped away from my laptop for a coffee run later, what if I missed an important work message?
I sighed and tried to get a hold of myself as the train lunged forward. I longingly watched pretty much everyone around me on their phones. I felt left out, and bored.
But after a few minutes, the boredom subsided a bit, and I kind of calmed down. I concocted a plan to attack the day. I would email my critical people when I got to the office, tell them what happened and instruct them to email me if they needed to reach me. A coworker friend would be in the office; I’d give them her number, too — just in case.
I used the train ride just to think — and I had lots of ideas! No longer buried in my phone, I thought through them all, and actually felt pretty good. I was already being creative and productive, and it wasn’t even 9am! I felt unusually peaceful. Maybe the day would be OK after all.
I tried to anticipate and plan around some little inconveniences, like how I’d meet my son for dinner in the city when we still had to figure out an exact time and place in advance. I could do this, though! I am Generation X! We grew up having to be resourceful. We knew how to make a plan and stick to it and figure out our way without technology.
Riding the escalator up from the train station, I started down the street with a bounce in my step. I was ready for another coffee. Only I realized I couldn’t order my Starbucks Americano on the app and just breeze in to grab it. I wouldn’t be able to pay with my phone, either. I wouldn’t get Rewards points, either. I walked up to the counter and ordered, debit card in hand. Sure, it took a while, but I was already much more patient than usual. I wondered what I might be missing on my phone at this very moment, but there was nothing I could do until I got to the office. I was out of communication. I closely observed all customers and tried to guess their orders, because I had nothing else to do. I tried to imagine what kind of job each person was headed to. I think I saw a lot of lawyers.
In my office building elevator, I told a Millennial I vaguely knew what happened. She looked shocked — and concerned. “Do you remember a time when there were no phones?” she asked, wide-eyed. I responded: “Yes, yes — I do!” I thought: There is no way you do; gosh, I am old.
I made a beeline for my seat, powered up my laptop and sent a quick email to my kids, parents and partner. I found my work friend and told her I’d given them her number just in case. And with that, I proceeded to have THE MOST PRODUCTIVE, FOCUSED AND CALM weekday in years.
I tackled my to-dos without distractions, drove projects forward, wrote down the ideas in my head, and felt less frantic. I survived without looking at my dog pics every half hour, without checking Instagram and without progressing on the New York Times’ Spelling Bee game.
I didn’t miss the group Messenger chats and text threads one bit. I had no idea what was happening in my son’s fraternity’s “Moms” chat or neighborhood pickleball group. I couldn’t check the weather where my son was in college (Madison), where my parents had retired to (Phoenix) or in the city where I was going for my upcoming birthday weekend (Sarasota). I just didn’t know. And you know what? It was fine! I was fine!
I realized I had to plan ahead for dinner. My oldest son and I started emailing so we could decide exactly where to meet in Chinatown and when. Without my phone, there would be no way to change the time or place. I even remembered to look up the restaurant address on my laptop, write it down on a Post-It note and put it in my bag, or I would have no idea where to go when I got off the train. Old school, I thought.
We enjoyed a great dinner as I explained to him how I had survived the day. I felt oddly calm and grounded, and I am sure it’s because I didn’t have my phone all day. It made a huge difference — one that’s hard to explain.
As I headed home, I admit I was pretty bored on the train and wondered what was going on in the news. But I’d survived. I thought of that Gloria Gaynor song, “I Will Survive,” and had to laugh at the lyrics and at myself: “At first, I was afraid; I was petrified. I thought that I could never live without you by my side…”
As we pulled into the station, I braced myself, this time for the opposite reason. I was about to come face to face with a phone that had twelve hours’ worth of texts, personal emails, missed calls and social media notifications. I was tired just thinking about it.
Gen X users averaged four hours and nine minutes, according to a recent study by Harmony Healthcare IT. I don’t think I would have ever been intentionally out of touch for twelve hours — but I am glad I was. You might want to try it!
