Column: Wired

 My life..
My life..


Technology is supposed to make our lives simpler.

But its impact upon my world is best represented by the drawers and cupboards stuffed with wads of tangled and knotted multi-coloured wires, wrapped up lovingly together like an endless ball of string attacked by a coven of kittens with anger issues.

This spaghetti junction of a situation pretty much mirrors the confusion in my mind while juggling various, inevitably over-priced, gadgets which market themselves as wireless – but don’t actually work unless you apply miles and miles of, er, wires.

Technology is indeed the work of an inspired but flawed, and slightly evil, genius.

My bedside table – which once resembled a serene retreat with only a lamp (wire one) and an alarm clock (wire two)and the inevitable pile of books – is now a dystopian nightmare and probably a fire risk with dozens of leads, chargers,casually thrown aside devices and wires.

Obviously, none of these match each other but I am too scared to throw them all out.

A voracious bookworm all of my life, I now spend my precious reading time juggling between tablets, laptops, phones, Kindles and technologically enhanced fitness watches – all of which are wireless, out of charge, and I have inevitably forgotten the cable for.

In other words, approaching my side of the bed is comparable to wading through a pond of electric eels but with more trip hazards.

Leaving the house has become so much more complicated and involves several false starts as I return for electronic paraphernalia essentials and check I have turned my hair straighteners off.

The irony is that, even if I have managed to juggle all of these gadget-related responsibilities and applied right coloured wires into the right coloured holes, I can still come a technological cropper.

The wires might provide the key to technology but without the key – a mass of passwords milling in my mind -it is useless.

Safe to say this situation has me pretty wired.