It is 11:42 PM. You are on all fours, cheek pressed flat against the dusty hardwood floor, right arm buried up to your shoulder blade behind a heavy oak nightstand. You are blind-groping the wall outlet like a frantic safe-cracker…
You are currently on your hands and knees behind a Panera Bread booth, one cheek pressed against the baseboard, your phone balanced on a napkin dispenser at a 37-degree angle because the only working outlet in the building is four…
You are currently headfirst under a mahogany desk in a gorgeous Parisian hotel, squinting in the dark while trying to wedge a massive, heavy adapter brick into an outlet that has been recessed four inches into the plaster wall like…
You are currently hunched over a wobbly coffee shop table like Quasimodo defending the bells of Notre Dame, aggressively stabbing at your iPad screen with two sweaty thumbs. Your wrists are locked at an agonizing 90-degree angle, your thumb joints…
You are currently standing in the dairy aisle of a grocery store with your head permanently cocked at a 45-degree angle like a confused cockatiel, your right index finger jammed aggressively into your ear canal. You have to maintain this…
You are currently walking from your car to the front door, performing a solo circus act that nobody bought tickets to see. In your left hand, you are precariously balancing a freezing iced latte, a rogue tube of lip balm,…
You are standing in the shower, covered in lavender body wash, trying to listen to a true-crime podcast over the roar of your plumbing. Because you are a tech-savvy intellectual, you have placed your five-hundred-dollar smartphone inside an empty coffee…
You come back from grocery shopping with a bag of melting avocados and the sudden, sinking knowledge that someone has destroyed your car. In parking space B-14, there is a fresh dent in your rear quarter panel, a smear of…
You are standing over a sizzling frying pan of onions, trying to listen to your morning podcast on your phone at maximum volume. Because your phone speaker has the acoustic output of an asthmatic cricket, you have dropped your twelve-hundred-dollar…
You are in your car trying to back out of a crowded grocery store parking space, with your iPhone plugged into the dashboard. Except you are using a standard six-foot charging cable, which means there are five and a half…
You are standing in the shower, covered in lavender body wash, trying to listen to your favorite true crime podcast while the water roars directly into your face. Because your phone’s built-in speaker sounds like a tin can trapped under…
You are standing in front of your bathroom mirror, performing the sacred, cursed morning ritual of trying to put on your Apple Watch with one hand. You take that standard silicone sport band, line up the tiny metal mushroom peg…
You are in a dimly lit hotel room at midnight, attempting to prop your phone upright against an ice bucket so you can FaceTime your family while your battery sits at a panic-inducing four percent. Every time you shift on…
You have achieved horizontal perfection. The blanket is tucked precisely beneath your feet, the pillows have been fluffed into an orthopedic masterpiece, your eyelids weigh four hundred pounds, and your brain is gently drifting into blissful slumber. Then, you open…
It is 11:47 PM. You are exhausted, your eyes are burning, and you attempt to perform the deceptively simple task of setting your Apple Watch down to charge on your nightstand. You hear the faint magnetic click, sigh with relief,…
You are standing in line at the airport gate, Group 4 has just been called, and your digital boarding pass is glowing weakly on a screen displaying exactly one percent battery. In a blind panic, you plunge your hand into…
You are sitting in a dead-silent doctor’s waiting room, and your child’s tablet is currently blasting an unhinged, neon-clad adult shrieking about surprise toy eggs at maximum volume. The audio is bouncing off the linoleum floor like sonar. Every senior…
You are sitting at your desk, the afternoon sun hits your workspace at just the right angle, and suddenly, you see it. A miniature archaeological dig site nestled between your shift key and the spacebar. It’s a delicate, horrifying ecosystem…
You are currently contorted in a high-stakes, low-dignity yoga pose beneath a row of sticky airport gate seats, your left cheek dangerously close to a carpet that hasn’t seen a vacuum since 2012. You are holding your phone’s charging cable…
Watching you email a four-gigabyte video to yourself in three separate compressed chunks—only for your inbox to aggressively reject the attachment—is a special kind of agonizing. You sit there waiting for a progress bar that never moves, swearing your tech…
Every night at 1:00 AM, you dive headfirst into the dusty abyss behind your nightstand, desperately fishing for three separate tangled cables like an archaeologist excavating trash. You knock over your water glass just to juice up your dead iPhone,…
