The curse of constant communication

My composition class started with a viewing of the printer-smashing scene from Office Space, always a therapeutic way to start the morning, and I was surprised once again to find that none of my students have seen the film. The topic of today's discussion was technology, how it simultaneously aids and impedes communication and why it sometimes fills us with a mad desire to take up crowbars and smash things. 

Even as we were discussing our love-hate relationship with technology, however, some angry people were sending long email messages demanding immediate response from me and others in a particular group, but fortunately, I was too busy actually doing my job to contribute to the discussion, which moved toward resolution without me. Sometimes the fast pace of electronic communication is part of the problem. Sometimes the best thing to do is step away from the keyboard and take a breath.

I've been away from blogging for a full week, fighting a cold and feeling as if my entire head was under attack from a raging mass of phlegm. Teaching has happened but probably not my best work. With all my students working on end-of-the-semester projects, I've spent more time listening and offering feedback than standing up and trying to be brilliant in class, which is good because my voice has been coming and going on its own schedule without any advance warning. I can still type when I can't talk, so technology has been helping me teach.

But still I find myself seeking solitude and distance from all my devices. This morning's reading in composition dealt partly with the dearth of solitude in daily life, the way the constant availability of communication makes it hard for our brains to get a break. I need to get out for a walk in the woods, away from phones and texts and messages, but I've been too sick and too busy to get too far away from all my electronic devices. Things are happening--important things--and I need to stay involved!

One of these day, though, I'll bypass my phone and reach for a crowbar instead, and then all my electronic devices had better look out. (My luck, I'd drop it on my foot.)