Beware of talking to your toothbrush

Your i-phone is not a person

This morning I woke to the sound of a beep-beep warning signal from my husband's i-phone. He'd had to park outside a resident's permit zone the night before and didn't want to forget he needed to move the car. Edinburgh's parking regulations are draconian. Only yesterday I watched a car being craned away from outside our flat like a prize toy in a funfair slot machine. Good spectator sport if you don't happen to be the motorist who's trangressed, but a sober reminder that you don't mess with the traffic wardens in these parts.

"Okay, okay, I know, I'm going," my husband said to his phone.
"Your phone is not a person," I told him.
Then I had to confess that only the other day I'd apologised to my sonic toothbrush. It had flashed up the low battery signal three days running and I'd been in too much of a rush to re-charge it. On the third day, when it gave its mournful beep, I heard myself say, "I'm sorry, I'll do it, okay?"

Laptop seduction

We laughed about it, but it set me thinking. I have a morning tussle with myself these days. I like to begin the day with a time of quiet meditation and prayer. It's always a rewarding start, especially when life is hectic - so why am I always prey to something else jostling it out? Lately, the 'something else' has been social networking. I sit down with my Bible and notebook and my laptop immediately starts its seduction tactics.
"You should check your emails. You never know, you might have something from an agent."
"You didn't get round to tweeting much yesterday. You only get as much out of it as you put in. Your followers will start to lose interest."
"You didn't follow up a Facebook message last night. You should check it out this morning."
I've now started leaving my laptop in the drawer until I'm ready for it. That way, at least its come-ons are muffled!

Don't get me wrong, I think social networking is great, but let's face it, my twitter followers, Facebook friends and authors of the junk that clutters up my spam box, are not falling over themselves to spend time with me, any more than my toothbrush is sulking in the bathroom cabinet because I haven't got round to re-charging it.

A lovely paraphrase of Psalm 54:4 says, 'God is my helper. He is a friend of mine!'
Not a fickle twitter follower or a 'forgot to post today' Facebook' friend, but a faithful, 'never let you down', 'there for you through thick and thin' friend.
"So belt up, laptop. I am NOT listening"
Oh no, I'm at it again!