PhOCD

PhOCD: obsessive compulsive checking of the cell phone. This is a disorder that particularly affects those people with iPhones, BlackBerrys, PDAs and Smart Phones. These super cell phones are basically an extension of their hand, a portal to the world—updating them on the status of everything. Without their phone, users can feel naked, disconnected and disoreinted.

Do you really need to know what everyone of your 600-plus Facebook friends are doing at 3 p.m.? Chances are if they are posting in the middle of the work day, it is probably to tell you what kind of latte they had on their coffee break (see Captain Status post), that's one caffeinated story that will make you yawn.

The constant need to stay in contact with whomever or whatever is "contacting" them is like an addiction. Everytime the little red light flashes on the top right corner of the cell phone it beams out check me, read me, respond to me. The warm glow of the electronic light signals that someone want to talk to you, connect with you. Maybe it's no coincidence that the cell phone manufactors selected red for the signal light, a color of urgency and love, something that your phone communicates to you. It's no wonder that these days people are soo "connected" with the world, but yet they feel so alone. If human relationships were all about being informed of what their freinds and families were doing, people would have just sent each other tearsheets from the day planner with notes like here is what I have been up to, say hi to the kids.

I have to admit I too have fallen victim to my BlackBerry's seductive ploys, constanting vibrating, rining and flashing, trying to get me to stay connected with the world at all hours of the day. Is this really making my life better? I doubt it, instead I am on my lunch break and I get a ridiculous email from my boss, which I don't want to read when I am out of the office. But, once again, I fall victim to the enticing red light, which gleams with the promise of offering me something new, exciting and different. It takes me all of one second to cave and I check it. I respond with the rapid whir of frantic thumbs to craft an appropriate response. However instead of really getting work done, I am really getting an advanced case of carpal tunnel thumb from the overuse of my opposable fingers.