My name is Amy. I'm a 25-year-old graduate student who likes yoga, home-decorating shows and eating spoonfuls of peanut butter straight from the jar. Oh yeah, and I'm an iPhone addict. I wasn't always an addict. In fact, for many years I told myself I didn't want a fancy cellphone. They seemed like too much work, always ringing and demanding attention. I was perfectly content with my simple cellphone, and I didn't feel like changing my mind any time. However, about a year ago, I found myself envious of all those proud iPhone owners, holding their shiny new phones and showing them off to all their friends. I started to _ conversations about "iPhone apps", feeling like a tourist listening to a language I couldn't speak. Eventually I couldn't ignore my iPhone instinct   any longer, and I welcomed my new iPhone into my life. I instantly fell in love with the little bundle of joy, and could no longer imagine a life without it. To my surprise, I suddenly found myself with a whole new circle of friends--other iPhone owners I could go to for advice and support as I learned the various functions of my new device. They responded to my iPhone-related queries when my other friends couldn't, and didn't roll their eyes when I bragged about all the things little Eloise (yes, I named her) could do. For a couple months I built my new life with Eloise. However, I realized I had a problem when one day I found myself Google-mapping my way to my mailbox, which happens to be right outside my front door. When I reflected upon the past few months, I couldn't believe I didn't see this coming. All the warning signs were there. Eloise slept right beside me and was the first thing I reached for in the morning. I checked my e-mail about 20 times a day. I also experienced attachment anxiety when I left poor Eloise in the changing room at the gym. What if she rang and needed my response? Or, even worse, what if a careless gym-goer knocked her out of my bag and caused her screen to crack? Once I admitted I had a problem, things started to change. What used to feel like friendly messages now felt like constant complaining to respond. I hated that I could no longer leave the house without Eloise in my hand. Eventually, I felt angry with Eloise so much that I wanted to throw her at the wall. I decided something had to be done. But, as I quickly realized, iPhones are like cigarettes and not easy to quit. Then, while taking the bus to work one day, I was unexpectedly forced to quit--at least temporarily. When I reached into my purse to grab Eloise, I found her overcome by fever. My head swam with panic as I attempted to solve the problem, but without result. I couldn't call anyone for advice. I couldn't Google whether this had happened to any fellow iPhone owners. The Apple Store was closed by the time I finished work, so I headed home with fear into an Eloise-less night. But, after a couple hours without any text alerts, push notifications, or even good old-fashioned phone calls, I felt ... calmer. Without my electronic bed partner, I drifted off into the deepest sleep I'd had in months. The next morning, I read the news from the simplicity of the newspaper, instead of from my iPhone. I even noticed the cherry blossoms blooming. My goodness, what had I been missing? IPhones'  _   can not be listed among the reasons why the writer was addicted to it.
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