The Terror that is Technology

I’m on technology access overload. The only thing that consoles me is that I’m not going through this agony alone.

Its 6:50pm, the steak is marinating, the aubergines are under the grill. The phone rings (as it has a habit of doing at dinner time) I answer it - a one second silence, then a voice, not unlike the sound an echo being sucked up by a vacuum cleaner, responds. “How are you today?". I reply (in a state of high irritation) “I really don’t think that should be any concern of yours.” Not put off by this affront the voice continues, assuring me that he is “just checking that you have everything you need from your telephone, internet and mobile provider.” I reply that “yes I do” hastily adding “thank you”, in the hopes that this simply courtesy will get me off the hook. No such luck, the voice continues “I can guarantee to make you even more content by offering you a price cut, discounts, and numerous other bells and whistles.”

I less than politely take my leave and head for the kitchen. Not to be, I’m stopped mid stride by a buzz on the intercom. It’s the Foxtel guy wanting to regale me with the reasons why I should go the digital way. He engages scare tactics – "if you don’t go digital you'll loose access to the history channel". Now he’s got my attention. This is just not possible as I have no desire to miss out on my escape to those periods in human evolution that were untouched by technology. Consider it a done deal..I sign up.

Dinner is a disaster, over marinated steak that tastes more like venison than beef and incinerated aubergines. I have no choice but to revert to using the microwave to heat up frozen leftovers.


Two down - bad luck comes in three's. It's not over yet. A final check of my emails for the day delivers a dose of technology over- kill. The Christmas flight to the US has had a schedule change. The bank hasn’t paid the Visa account because apparently I didn’t pick up my confirmation pin number, which comes to me, courtesy of a text message on my mobile. There's confirmation of my registration for E-tag – I can now use the cross city tunnel to go to the Organic Market at Orange Grove School. The last piece de resistance is from a real estate agent letting me know that he has found me the perfect apartment. Joy oh joy, it has a much sought after media alcove.

Time to restore my equilibrium and my sanity. I run a bubble bath, light a non-scented candle, pour a glass of Italian White (produced by Monks at a C16th monastery) and switch off.

Oh for a 'Life so Sweet' Give me back the simple things in life.