Keep Your Fingers to Yourself!

Dec 3, 2014 by

          I haven’t had an I-want-to-text-him urge in a really long time. The post-text shame, regret, inability to breathe – why would I want that? The possibility of response has dropped too low to justify any of it. I’m all for relinquishing pride on the grounds of going after what you want, but you can only hang your pride out to dry so many times before it stops classifying as trying and starts walking the line of desperate. Having said that, some days the annoying itch to text comes back. Today was one of those days.

          Before I could convince myself that texting him was a good idea (because I’m awfully skilled at that), I momentarily left Starbucks to toss my phone in the trunk of my car for the first time since the summer. The trunk is an excellent text deterrent by effect of pure laziness. When you know you have to get up, walk to the door, open the door, walk outside, walk to your car, pull out your car key, unlock the trunk, and open the trunk (feel free to break this down into as many redundant steps as you need to dramatize the distance between you and your trunk to the length the Trans-Canada highway) just to get to your phone, you begin to question even the most persistent desires to text. Thus, putting your phone in your trunk gives you the best gift you can give yourself in eager texting times: the necessary space to fucking think before you willingly do something stupid. The questions you should have already been asking yourself before you put your phone in the trunk will have a chance to catch up with you: What the fuck are you going to say? Do you really want to spend the rest of your day stressing about whether or not he’ll respond? Wouldn’t you rather be happily drumming to songs on your steering wheel later, instead of anxiously flicking through stations to distract yourself from the realization that no answer is your answer? Considering the miniscule possibility that he actually does flex his fingers to reply, are you really up for the inevitable crash that follows the fleeting high when the messages stop? Do you value your dignity but at all? Finally, the trunk makes possible the most thought-provoking of text-aversion questions: Is any text really worth the one to two whole minutes it takes to get to your car?

          Now that laziness is ranking pretty fucking close to best-friend status by sparing your self-respect, add winter. The phone-in-the-trunk trick is effective year round (re: laziness), but let’s add winter, just because it’s December. You’ve officially won the battle against the dangerous text drafted in your head. Think about it: You’ve already accomplished the impressive feat of putting your phone in your trunk despite the cold. Not only are you obviously dedicated to your cause; you’re also going to think twice about going back outside. My whole body seizes at the mere idea. No text message is worth bearing winter twice, especially not a text with lower odds of scoring you a win than Vegas. Stay warm. You and your phone need some space. If the battery freezes to death in the process, good; that text won’t have a chance!

Happiness Tip: Put your phone in the trunk. It’s for your own good.

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