Going Off the Grid

I love my cell phone. It’s sleek, fits in my too-small girl-pants pockets, and comes out largely unscathed every time I unintentionally throw it on the ground. Throughout the course of graduate school it has slowly become an extension of my hand: I anxiously search for it when I forget where I left it, and I incessantly lock and unlock it using the fancy fingerprint reader when I’m fidgeting before a seminar. More...