For a number of years now, I have used my cell phone as a watch.
Except it's awkward, digging around in my purse to find the darn thing. (Imagine the time I have wasted, doing just that?)
For speaking engagements, I bought a cheap-o bracelet-style "Grandma" watch at Walmart. It's nothing fancy. But it works to help me find the "I'll take two more questions, and then our time is up" moment at the end of presentation.
A few months ago I spied in Sundance catalog the bold, inspiring watch that appears beside these words.
But I don't NEED a watch. I've got the cell phone, remember? And the Grandma watch. So I've resisted the splurge.
And then I was dusting, looking at this family photo, circa 2002:
Do you see that watch on my wrist? (Hard to see at this size, but I promise you, it's there.) It was a gift from my husband. I wore it ALL THE TIME.
I couldn't remember what happened to it. Was it broken? Lost?
I found it in my jewelry box. As I held it in my hand I remembered all the reason I loved it. It's flat, light-weight, silver AND gold. Not flashy, but nice.
So I took it to the jeweler, and for five dollars and a quarter, fitted it with a new battery. And I've been wearing it ever since. And I love it! No more digging around in my purse!
And it feels so rebellious, so retro, like I am going my own way in a techno-world.
I like it. And it's validated other choices I've made, like no smart phone, no tablet, no Facebook. I feel so self-sufficient, so in-the-moment.
Sometimes all it takes is a tiny little thing to change your life. (Isn't that a lesson we have to learn and learn and learn again? Sigh.)