It’s 8:30 am when a high pitched alarm comes from the cell phone beside my bed. It’s the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see before I go to bed. It’s more than a piece of plastic. It’s a clock, it’s a scheduler and most importantly, it’s a portal to the outside world.
I roll out of bed, shut off the alarm and turn on the light. For forty-five minutes, I review for a quiz by flipping through my US government notes. I begin to get ready and perform my morning ritual of powering up my laptop. I pace through the house and occasionally return to my computer to check my e-mail accounts and Facebook page.
Before leaving for class, I glance at the online edition of the New York Times, where I search for President Obama’s speech on the shootings in Tucson, Arizona. I discover that the White House website has a “Weekly Address to the Nation.” [http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/01/15/weekly-address-we-are-democrats-or-republicans-we-are-americans].
I return from class after lunch and read the news section of the Telegraph Journal’s online paper. I then search the event section of the city’s website and Kijiji for story ideas for my next class. I receive almost all of my daily news from online outlets. The days when I flipped through the pages of a newspaper at my breakfast table seem to be more and more rare. Partially for financial reasons, partially for convenience. I sometimes find myself looking for quantity, not quality by reading online articles and briefs than full length print editions.
After supper, I check my new Twitter account and smile when I discover I shattered my old record, as I am now being followed by more than one person. I scroll through the tweets of the Globe and Mail, the New York Times and my personal favourite- Rick Mercer. I finish the evening by reading CBC.ca, glancing at national and provincial headlines.
Here I am again. It’s the end of the day and I have my cell phone in hand. I reflect on the days events and the role technology played in them. It seems that we have become a society obsessed with connection. We are terrified we might miss something, whether it be an earth-shattering news event or a notification from one of your 600 “friends.”