Days in the Life of Mo

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but if you’ve ever confidently told someone, “Oh, I barely use my phone,” while your screen time averages 8 hours a day… this post is for you.

Let’s be honest, we’ve all mastered the art of pretending. Pretending that checking notifications isn’t the first thing we do in the morning. Pretending that we “just need to reply to one email” while Instagram mysteriously opens itself. Pretending that our phones don’t hum softly from the nightstand, whispering “just one more scroll.”

Somewhere between the invention of the infinite scroll and the “Your screen time increased by 27% this week” notification, we lost the plot. I don’t even remember what I used to do while waiting in line before I had a phone… stare at the ceiling? Make eye contact with other humans? Barbaric.

The Delusion of Control

I tell myself I’m in control. I even use phrases like “I use my phone intentionally”, which, if we’re being honest, is just tech-speak for “I planned to scroll.”

But behavioral scientists say otherwise. According to a 2023 study from the University of California, the average person checks their phone 144 times a day… that’s once every 10 minutes. And if you’re thinking “not me,” then congratulations… you probably just checked your phone while reading that stat.

Even app developers admit that apps are built to keep us hooked. Former Google Design Ethicist Tristan Harris once compared social media apps to “slot machines in your pocket,” designed to exploit the brain’s reward systems. We don’t just like checking our phones, our brains are literally wired to.

The Subtle Ways We Pretend

There are levels to this, of course.

There’s the “I’m just checking the time” move… the gateway habit. You pick up your phone to check the time, and 12 minutes later, you’re deep in an argument about whether Pluto should be a planet.

Then there’s the “I’m on my phone for work” justification. Ah yes, researching trends on TikTok, building brand awareness on Instagram Reels, and networking by scrolling through memes on LinkedIn.

And finally, the “digital minimalist” phase; deleting all your apps dramatically at midnight, only to reinstall them 36 hours later because “you need WhatsApp for emergencies.” (Spoiler: the emergency is boredom.)

My Smartwatch Is Now My Dealer

Even when I try to detox, technology finds new ways to keep me tethered. My smartwatch now buzzes every time someone sends a message, effectively acting as a tiny, judgmental accomplice. It’s like I’ve outsourced my addiction to another device.

Sometimes I wonder if the real problem isn’t the phone itself, but the phantom comfort it provides; that micro hit of dopamine when someone texts, likes, or retweets. It’s not even about the message anymore; it’s about the possibility of it.

So, Where Do We Go From Here?

I’m not here to guilt-trip anyone (I literally wrote this while checking my phone between paragraphs). Maybe the goal isn’t full detachment, maybe it’s awareness.

Maybe the gentle art isn’t in pretending we’re not addicted, but in knowing we are and choosing to scroll anyway; intentionally, joyfully, and with a little less shame.

So the next time your phone lights up, maybe don’t flinch. Maybe just smile at the tiny rectangle that somehow holds your memories, relationships, playlists, and the 47 screenshots you’ll never look at again.

After all, some love stories start with a swipe… and this one started with a scroll.

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What’s the longest you’ve gone without checking your phone… and did you experience inner peace or mild panic?

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If you made it this far without checking your notifications, you deserve a medal. Or at least a reward in the form of more curious, mildly chaotic tech musings from me; your local dev girl who occasionally writes better than she codes.