*I’m skipping a #tbt post this week to once again yell at an inanimate object, like a totally normal sane person.
Dear Apple Watch,
You and I have been through a lot together this year. I wore you during two half marathons, you were
by my side on my wrist during every stair step I took to the sixth floor of work instead of the elevator, and I learned the embarrassing way in front of a group of people, that no, you do not play music, but rather you can control the music on my phone. I enjoy your doodle feature, and how easy it is to check texts, but we have got to talk about your unreasonably high expectations of me when it comes to your activity app.
As you may know, one of my personal goals this month was to earn the “Perfect Week” badge, which entails meeting a calorie, exercise, and stand goal every day from Sunday to Sunday. I set upon this quest on Sunday, and despite being active all day, and taking frequent standing breaks, I could not break the stand goal. A one mile walk, thirty minutes on the elliptical, and being out and about for the day simply was not enough for you. I understand that all you are trying to do is keep me from living a sedentary lifestyle, for which I am most appreciative, but if I put you on my wrist at 9 am, you can not expect me to be taking a standing break at 10 pm, unless I develop a sleep walking disorder, because my tired idiot self has been in bed for well over an hour at this point.
I know I know. Could I put the watch on earlier to save myself the trouble, and reach my stand goal by a reasonable hour,? Yes, but it’s the principle of the matter! You treat me like my activity is that of the grandparents from Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory. I do get out of bed, you know? I’m standing up when ever I can, taking walking breaks when I find the time at work, and good lord I’m even taking the stairs! Does that not account for anything? Why aren’t we totaling up those moments? It seems like the only time you care about me is during situations where I have no choice but to stand for hours on end. Concerts, waiting in line, or when I pose in front of store windows like a mannequin to make some extra cash (kidding, but WHAT IF). You may have a valid argument when it comes to putting on the watch earlier, but let me counter with the fact that you can’t seem to tally a run if you are covered by a long sleeve, and you won’t let me send more than one emoji at a time in a text. These are weak points, I know, but you are a fancy robot watch that may or may not have the technology to take over my brain so I’m just going to play it safe (I also have little grasp as to how science works, so forgive this fantasy nightmare). Just work with me!
Mallory’s Left Wrist