Three weeks ago I lost my phone to a blizzard. Since then, life has been a continual adventure. Below, I've detailed my journey.

Week One: The Phantom Feeling

I rifle around my purse, expecting to feel the comforting curves of my iPhone, but come up with nothing but a handful of pens, highlighters, and an unwavering sense of loss. I google this feeling, and am relieved to find that no, I'm not going crazy. According to WebMD, I'm experiencing "Phantom Vibration Syndrome (PVS)," and around 90% of students have it. Essentially, PVS is characterized as the "perception that one's mobile phone is vibrating or ringing even when it is not." This feeling is akin to that of someone who typically wears glasses reaching to adjust them, even when they aren't wearing any. Or, in my case, anticipating calls or texts even when they aren't there.

After reading these symptoms, I tell myself this is a good thing. I was getting addicted to social media, and this cleanse came at a good time.

By midweek, I turn into somewhat of a rage monster whenever people ask about my phone. "It's too soon," I say, cringing with each word.

Week Two: Reality Sets In

At the start of the second week sans iPhone, my lifestyle unravels. Not in a melodramatic "my life is over" sort of way, but in a "I've grown accustomed to a schedule that no longer exists," type of way.

Pre-loss, a typical morning included a quick run and pilates, accompanied with a good podcast. Endorphins and education, it can't get much better than that.

Without my alarms, my mornings now consist of waking in a panic and running to my 8 ams.

I never realized how technology dependent I was until the option was taken from me. My days consist of more studying and less socializing, since it's no longer an option.

While I'm frustrated with the sense of aimlessness, I make the most of it by messaging an old classmate. We promptly schedule weekly hiking dates, and I find that it helps ease my social withdrawal.

Week Three: My So-Called Social Life

At this point, the only people texting me are the people who really want to contact me. The rest have either forgotten or decided it's too difficult to make plans. I concur. As of now, the only way to reach me is via email or iMessage, so going out isn't really part of the equation. No phone, no Uber, no Venmo, it gets pretty complicated after a while.

Towards the end of the week, I run into a group of friends. They ask if I'm okay, noting my absence from snapchat and lack of reply to calls, as pain points. They express their frustration at my lack of socialization in the past few weeks.

I post another status about my missing phone and call it a day.

Final thoughts:

Although my technological cleanse was unintentional, it put things in perspective.

Having a phone allowed me to stay in touch with my many friends and family who live across the country. Digital interactions like Snapchat, WhatsApp, and House Party allowed me visually engage in their daily routines. This engagement strengthened cross-country friendships, but led me to distance myself from the people who were geographically closest to me. In all of my texts, calls, and snaps, I was documenting, rather than experiencing those moments. Living in the moment became an irritation rather than a benefit.

I'm still unsure how many business calls or conversations I've missed, but these facts aren't paramount. I've managed to improve my interactions by minimizing my connections.