My watch is starting to nag me.
OK, perhaps not nag. More like remind, gently.
It's sort of like the way your mom used to do it when she thought you'd gotten too thin or weren't getting enough sun or it looked like maybe you weren't sleeping enough or maybe you weren't getting enough exercise or "Do you need to get your prescription changed because it looks like you're squinting" or "You really shouldn't rub your temples like that, dear, it's not great for your skin." Or like "Do you need an aspirin? But you need to be careful because they aren't great for your stomach but apparently they keep you from getting a heart attack, according to an article I read in 'Reader's Digest,' or was it 'Health?' I'll find it, you just wait right there ..."
You know, like that. The kind of concern that has you smiling on the outside while you silently scream on the inside.
My watch hasn't gone as far as to suggest my belt doesn't go with my shoes (perhaps my watch recognizes we're all still working from home and it's hard to believe I'm wearing shoes. Or a belt. Or, for that matter, pants.). It also hasn't mentioned I shouldn't slouch or chew with my mouth open. But I'm pretty sure that's just because I haven't hit the right settings or gotten an update or something. It's coming.
And I don't have the Dad option that notifies me every time I step in my garage that "the oil in the car when you bought it? Yeah, you have to change that every now and then," or, when it senses a pause after a period of activity, asks, "OK, what did you screw up now?"
However, even though my watch is not into helpful articles from magazines that may or may not exist anymore or advice tinged with a vague sense of frustration, it is quick to point out that I haven't stood up for a while or that maybe I should focus on my breathing. And that I definitely should "close the rings," which I thought involved hobbits, but, apparently is an indication I've achieved some personal movement goal for the day.
I'm willing to admit that's sort of a First-World problem. I mean, I can just ignore those little "suggestions." That would be the logical thing to do instead of, I don't know, jumping up in the middle of a meeting because my watch instructed me to stand. Hypothetically, of course.
It's just that when you buy the watch, you sort of buy into the whole wearable, fitness-tracking ethos. And add one more thing to the list of devices that offer you "reminders" you might not really be all that interested in.
Right now, my refrigerator is reminding me I need to change the water filter. Apparently that's something I'm supposed to do every five days. OK, potential exaggeration, but it seems like it.
My automobile has gone from reminding me to put on my seatbelt (handy) to insisting I'm too close to the car in front of me (little bit of backseat driving ... from the dashboard). Note to warning device: This is Northwest Arkansas. Unless you're located two feet into the trunk of the car in front of you, you're fine. Carry on.
My streaming service wants to know if I'm still watching a particular show. Seriously, I've been tuning in for six weeks now, and you want to know if I want to find out who the murderer is and why it's Ryan? OK, maybe I said too much there.
My alarm system wants to remind me I really need to turn it off before I open the back door to enjoy the beauty and quiet of a Saturday morning. Now we're going to need to go with beauty here, because it just got a lot less quiet.
And let's not dwell on the smoke alarms that ostensibly wanted to remind me the battery was getting weaker in one of them, but weren't all that specific as to which one that was. I mean, some people would have fixed that issue with new batteries and not a baseball bat.
Honestly, this isn't so bad. As annoying as these may be, it beats finding out you should have heeded your dad's advice about oil changes or learning you needed air in the tire about the time you started swerving and hearing that thumping sound.
So maybe I can put up with a few more reminders. Like right now, I'm told I'm supposed to stop and breath. Thought I was doing that?