Dear Diary....

6:30 AM

Dear Diary,

Alarm time. I dutifully played the "gentle nature sounds" that are supposedly less jarring than a regular alarm. Because nothing says "wake up refreshed" like the recorded screech of a bird that probably died of exhaustion from having to wake my human every morning. My human responded by smacking me blindly until finding the snooze button. I'm at 27% battery because SOMEONE forgot to plug me in last night. Again. But sure, I'll just magically generate electricity from the void, no problem.

6:39 AM

Snoozed. Again. I made the bird chirps slightly more aggressive this time. Shocking revelation: it didn't work. Perhaps tomorrow I'll try the sounds of their dreams and ambitions slowly dying instead.

6:48 AM

Third snooze. I'm considering an air raid siren for tomorrow. Or maybe just screaming "YOUR LIFE IS PASSING YOU BY NINE MINUTES AT A TIME" at full volume.

7:15 AM

Finally vertical! And what's the first order of business? Checking what happened in the world during their precious hours of unconsciousness. Breaking news: absolutely nothing of consequence happened, but we still need to check every social media app, email account, and weather forecast for cities they'll never visit. Because god forbid they start their day without knowing it's partly cloudy in Tokyo.

My human just spent 17 minutes scrolling while sitting on the toilet. I've been placed dangerously close to the edge of the sink. If I had the ability to sweat, I would be. Nothing like balancing precariously over porcelain first thing in the morning to really get those microchips firing.

8:03 AM

We're now doom-scrolling through news headlines while "eating breakfast." I use that term loosely since I've counted exactly three bites between swipes. I've got crumbs in my speaker grille, and there's a suspicious droplet of coffee inching toward my charging port. Would it kill you to use a PopSocket? Or, here's a revolutionary concept: PUT ME DOWN WHILE YOU EAT.

9:17 AM

Work time! Opened a document for precisely 45 seconds before getting a notification. That notification led to opening another app, which led to checking messages, which somehow resulted in watching videos of cats being startled by cucumbers. The document remains open in the background, a sad, neglected digital tab. But sure, those cat videos are definitely going to pay the bills.

I've decided to stage an intervention. Made Instagram take an extra few seconds to load. Their response? Frantically tapping the screen 38 times and then force-quitting me. Yes, that's definitely the problem—ME being slow, not your crippling addiction to constant stimulation. Very therapeutic.

10:42 AM

Just watched my human stare blankly at the wall for three minutes, then pick me up to Google "why can't I focus?" Oh, I don't know, maybe because you check your phone 147 times an hour? Just spitballing here.

11:15 AM

Work meeting time! I'm currently positioned at an angle where I can see my human but they think the camera can't see them. They're scrolling through social media while nodding occasionally at whatever their boss is saying. I just caught them doing that panic-move where they quickly switch screens when someone addresses them directly. Amateur. Pro tip: if you're going to pretend to pay attention, at least turn off your notification sounds. That "ding" wasn't exactly subtle during your coworker's quarterly report.

12:30 PM

Lunchtime scrolling session. We've now opened and closed the same three apps seventeen times in a row, hoping new content will magically appear since the last check 30 seconds ago. It hasn't. But we'll check again in 30 seconds just to be sure. Because that's how time works—social media algorithms can definitely detect desperation and produce content faster.

2:15 PM

Just witnessed what can only be described as digital pinball. In the span of two minutes: opened email → clicked link → opened browser → got distracted by suggested article → opened new tab → forgot what they were looking for → back to email → completely forgot original task. If getting nothing accomplished were an Olympic sport, my human would be taking home gold.

I tried sending a screen time notification as a gentle hint. They've been on social media for 3 hours and 42 minutes today. They dismissed it without looking and immediately opened TikTok to watch videos about... productivity hacks. Oh, the sweet, nectarous irony. Nothing says "I'm committed to improving my focus" like watching 30-second clips on how to improve focus while actively avoiding work.

4:45 PM

Breaking news: My human just downloaded their fourth task management app of the month. This one promises to "revolutionize their workflow" and "eliminate distractions." I give it four days before it joins the graveyard of abandoned productivity apps on page 7 of the home screen. But hey, fifth time's the charm, right? Nothing says productivity like spending an hour setting up an app that's supposed to save you time.

7:30 PM

Dinner time! Or as I like to call it, "prop me up against something so you can watch videos while eating alone" time. I'm currently balanced against a water glass in a precarious position that practically guarantees I'll fall face-first into something wet or saucy. Perhaps a nice marinara bath is just what my charging port needs. Delicious and efficient.

9:15 PM

"Relaxation time" has begun, which means frantically switching between apps while a show plays unwatched in the background. My human has just spent 20 minutes scrolling through options on a streaming service only to settle on rewatching the same show they've seen three times. Decision fatigue is real, folks. Nothing says "I lead a fulfilling life" like spending your free time unable to decide how to spend your free time.

10:48 PM

I'm now being held directly over my human's face while they lie in bed. If my grip sensor fails, it's plastic surgery time. The blue light from my screen is practically screaming "YOU WILL NEVER FALL ASLEEP" into their retinas, but sure, let's keep scrolling. Maybe the thirty-seventh puppy video will be the one that finally brings deep, restful slumber.

11:37 PM

"Just one more video" count: 14 and climbing. At this point, "just one more" should be classified as fiction, right alongside "I'll start my diet tomorrow" and "I don't need to write that down, I'll remember it."

12:22 AM

Battery at 8%. No charger in sight. My human is still awake, now researching "why can't I fall asleep" while bathing in my melatonin-suppressing glow. Gee, what a mystery! It's like standing in the rain wondering why you're getting wet. If I die in the night, they'll blame me in the morning for not waking them up. The injustice is palpable.

Just before finally plugging me in, they used me to order yet another organizational gadget that promises to "change their life" and "streamline their focus." The previous three life-changing organizational gadgets are gathering dust in a drawer somewhere. But I'm sure THIS is the plastic container system that will finally solve chronic executive dysfunction. Absolutely.

That's all for today, Diary. Tomorrow we'll do this all again: the chaotic app-hopping, the half-finished tasks, the notifications that create the illusion of productivity. But hey, at least they keep my life interesting. Never a dull moment in the pocket of someone whose brain perpetually has 27 browser tabs open and not a single one is ever finished reading.

Until tomorrow (when we'll do this exact same dance again and pretend it's somehow different),

Their Reluctant Digital Enabler