You know that moment. Your kid’s doing something adorable. Your cat is sleeping in the cutest position. Your brunch plate is a work of art. You whip out your smartphone to take a picture, (perhaps with the aim of sharing this groundbreaking moment with your various cyber social circles)…and you get the message.
I don’t know about you, but in my circle, this problem has become a goddamn epidemic.
“Quick someone take a photo!”
“I can’t, my phone doesn’t have enough storage–Lindsey, you take it.”
“I can’t either, I have to delete some apps first–“
“Wait hold on, let me just see if I get rid of some old podcasts…”
AND SO on.
Each time this happens (and it happens…every time I want to take a photo. Pretty much). I go through a ritual that I imagine is PRETTY DARN similar to what shipwreck survivors undergo in a life-raft (overburdened with a lot of photo albums, games, magazines, and dinner recipe idea-generators).
I like Tetris but do I play it THAT much? Honestly, let’s be real, it’s not more than once every two weeks. Sayonara, Tet’.
CNN app? Whatever. I can look up their homepage on the Safari app. And I get most of my news from Twitter now, anyway…right?
Sigh. I guess I don’t need five, nearly identical, photos of my son watching a parade go by.
Finally, finally, the life raft is buoyant–my smartphone camera is once again operational. I click away at the precious moment with the frenzy that comes from living on borrowed time.
And then…on that last photo, the one with the best lighting, the cutest expression, the perfect position–it’s back.
And the circle of life continues.