12/5/2004 01:39:05 AM|||paul|||I don't want it - I just need it.|||My name is Paul, and I am a technology addict.

I have come to this realisation over the last year or so, and I find it extremely perturbing. I used to pride myself on my utilitarian independence, but somewhere along the way I developed an insidious technological dependency.

This weekend I was dismayed to discover that I'd left my mobile phone recharger at work. The full repercussions of not having a functioning mobile may not be immediately apparent, but they quickly become obvious when such a situation arises.

I completely take for granted the fact that I can immediately contact, or be immediately contacted by the people in my social circle. I actually harangued Schmee until he got one for himself because the fact that he didn't have one was a discordant note in my personal sense of harmony.

This evil device has me at its mercy. It is some Machiavellian puppet master, and I the soulless marionette, dancing to the monophonic notes of its somber cadence. When I don't have a functioning mobile in my possession I get sweaty palms worrying about my car breaking down, or wondering if someone is right now trying to contact me for some important reason. Being dependent on a piece of machinery really emasculating.

It will be the death of me, I can see. It rings at exactly the wrong moments - usually when I'm about to negotiate a nasty bit of traffic, forcing me to scramble around in my jeans, groin in the air and right leg as straight as possible so I can squeeze it out of my pocket. I must do this because I cannot leave its siren song unanswered. |||110217883114516180