My phone judged my sleep before I even stood up.

I know. Hard to swallow. Since when did that rectangular piece of tech become my life coach, my health coach and, apparently, my sleep critic?

This morning, I woke up to the soft, ambient sounds of the ocean (carefully chosen from a comprehensive list of ‘calming’ noises). Gently nudged awake by an artificial sun lighting up my room (courtesy of an adjacent app), I blearily reached out for my phone. And before my foot even hit the floor, right there on the screen was a sweet note. And by ‘sweet,’ I mean brutally, sassily ironic. It said, and I kid you not, “Your sleep quality? – Poor.”

Poor, really? I almost broke out laughing. I mean, it was a Monday morning, the start of the workweek, and the last thing I needed to hear was that I’m failing in something as basic as sleeping! Come on now! Listen, pal. Unlike you, I don’t run on electricity or lithium batteries. Sleep doesn’t necessarily recharge me. That’s a luxury for your type. Not mine.

Let’s cycle back to the good old days when waking up just meant being startled by the deafening blare of my bedside alarm clock. Yes, that sheepish box whose only job was to scream at me until I woke up and then shut the heck up. No judgement passed, no coaching given, no scathing critiques on my rest. Those were the days, my friends.

Now, instead of simply acting as an alarm, my phone has taken it upon itself to be my health monitor and performance analyst. And let me tell you, it’s doing an overly enthusiastic job at it. It is like having a know-it-all roommate who never tires of one-upping you. “Hey, you didn’t walk enough steps today!” “Um, looks like your heart rate was a tad bit high during your nap!” My sleep, my steps, my heart rate… Heck, if it could measure the rate at which I chew my food, I’m sure it would give me ‘feedback’ on that too.

6:12 am. Who needs the subtle hints of life judgement at this unholy hour? I, for one, could do without. I mean, honestly. I was dreaming about lying on a serene, sandy beach under a tranquil sky, not running a marathon (well, ‘hurrying up for a meeting while munching on a cold bagel’ is the closest I come to running). Can’t I get credit for a dream well-done at least?

Brother, I respect your functionality, but can we return to that sweet, untangled simplicity of just a beep to wake me up and not an early morning report of my deficiencies? How about you leave the judgement to my boss, friends and family, who are doing a very good job at it anyways? They don’t need competition.

So, to all my fellow humans whose mornings start with ‘feedback’ from their resolute rectangular roomie, I raise my half-empty coffee cup to you. May we find some sweet amusement in these blunt judgements while we yawn and blot life’s anxieties with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Until then, remember – the rectangle doesn’t always get it right, and mostly, it doesn’t know better.

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