My name is Anthony and I'm a Blackberry addict.
This is my story.
My addiction started, like so many others do, with just a little taste. Before then, I was much like you might be today: judgemental and elitist; laughing at those poor schmucks with their faces forever buried in a silly device. Oh yes, I thought I was above those mindless, street roaming, thumbpounders I saw in traffic, in coffee shops, on transit buses and trains. I enjoyed text messaging. But it didn't - and would never - rule my life.
I, after all, didn't have an addictive personality.
Then my old Motorola RAZR broke and I had to find another phone fast. I went on eBay and found a phone that I loved the look of and seemed to be big enough to fit comfortably in my hands. I was excited because of the great price for what looked like a well kept, though older, mobile phone. I was about to hit the 'buy now' button when I saw the logo near the earpiece:
While I loved the phones look, I was hesitant to buy one of these little devices because I didn't want to be lumped with the millions of other geeks who tap away at their phone during lunches, meetings, dates...sex.
Don't laugh. I know someone who's done it.
But the price was so good, I couldn't pass it up so I purchased the device and happily waited for it to come to me. When it did, I felt like a giddy schoolboy as I carefully opened the box and scanned my new purchase. As I picked up the phone from the box I swear I felt a shiver go through my body and then my eyes once again fell onto that logo, which, I have to admit, was eye catchingly simple.
I went a whole week without buying Blackberry Internet Services (BIS) from T-Mobile. I think, somewhere, deep inside, I knew that, once I did, it would all be over for me. It would be a sick point of no return and I could never again breath the air of freedom. But I gave in. How could I not? Email, text messaging, web surfing, attachments, everything I could ever need to work -- ahh yes, I'll use it to work -- was right there on my phone.! I began to make excuses that, with BIS and my phone, I wouldn't have to carry around my laptop as much since I could do a lot of work from the phone itself.
That's how it always starts, isn't it?
Making excuses for your habit.
Justifying it to make yourself feel better.
It wasn't long before I bought a memory card for it, started snapping remarkably good pictures, and found myself often skipping the PC totally in lieu of doing things totally on my device. It also wasn't long before the hunger set it. You know the hunger I'm talking about. The hunger for something better. Something, sleeker, Something newer. But still, something Blackberry. So I called T-Mobile and confessed my need to a very helpful salesman who was willing to give me exactly what I wanted. He knew I needed it. And he knew I'd stop at nothing to get my fix.
Enter the Blackberry Curve.
Before I received my Curve, I never thought you could truly love a phone. I'd never thought I could feel lost when it wasn't with me. I never thought...
Incoming text message...
...I never thought I could become so dependent on a device that can fit in my pocket. But I have. Now, I really have stopped carrying my laptop around as much and, when I do, I usually tether it to my Blackberry to get Internet access. My device has, as it has for many Blackberry addicts, become the centerpiece of my professional life.
I suppose there's good reason for this addiction developing. Smartphones make your life easier by allowing you to offload many of your most grueling tasks to a device that is more than happy to take them on. Now, I never have to forget an appointment, meeting, or miss an email. And I can connect with clients, friends and family in the medium in which they communicate be it IM, text, email, or voice.
All-in-all, I think I'm the exception to the rule. My addiction hasn't harmed my life. It's enhanced it. It's allowed me to pack more into my day and get things done more effectively. It's an addiction I think I'll likely not try to overcome. I'm not sure if I could even if I wanted to. In an odd twist, my addiction - the thing that is supposed to enslave me - has actually freed me. And I'm not complaining one bit.
Now, if I can only do something about these sore thumbs I have...