Does seven days without a phone make one weak?

So I'm on day six without my iPhone ... or any phone other than a traditional landline from time to time. I must admit, it's great!

Last Friday I thought it was a brilliant idea to trade in my iPhone (Target gives you cash for just about any old phone, by the way). I got a great deal on my old 3G model, but they were out of stock on the model I wanted — the simple, black, iPhone 4S. "No problem," I said. "I'll just go to another store."

Five stores later I figured out that every seventh grader in America is getting the simple, black, iPhone 4S for Christmas. I can just imagine them in Facetime make-out sessions and asking Siri if their girlfriend truly loves them. In the 80's we had to really make out, facing the hazards of locking braces and forgotten bubblegum, and the closest thing to Siri was a Magic 8-Ball that often reported "Seams Doubtfull" or something just as vague.

One of the AT&T store attendants had a few simple, WHITE, iPhone 4S's in stock. It was tempting. But something about getting a white iPhone felt so wrong. I told the guy, "Look, no offense if you have a white iPhone ..." To which he immediately winced and shook his head, "Uhm, no, mine's black." (As if he'd never even touched a white iPhone.) "Then you understand," I replied. He nodded. I'm a short white guy. I have a shaved head (for practical reasons). I try to dress fashionably but don't always pull it off. A white iPhone, in that environment, simply sends all the wrong messages. It says one of two things: 1) This guy is obviously trying too hard to be an approaching-40 metro-sexual and needs to trade-in his Buckle jeans for some Gap slacks or 2) This guy is obviously listening to way too much Eminem and is about to start wearing large jewelry, trade in his Infiniti for a low-ride Civic and start saying things like "yo" and "dawg." So you understand, white simply won't work.

My only other option was to buy the top-of-the-line, filled-with-memory-you'll-never-use model that costs twice as much. This, of course, defeated the purpose of trading in my old phone, so that wasn't a good option.

So I did what so many people are doing these days ... I ordered my phone online. I'm an instant-gratification guy. For this reason, I like stores. I want to play with the gadget, try on the shoes, smell the cologne and, most importantly, walk away with my purchase immediately. But now I was stuck. The AT&T stores said that the seventh graders bought up a seven-week supply of the phone I wanted, so I could wait until mid-January for them to arrive or order it from the AT&T online store.

If you use AT&T, you undoubtedly understand my reluctance to have any interaction involving them. It seems like every time I login to the site I accidentally renew my contract or increase my text messaging package. The upsells are worse than GoDaddy and tied to contracts the attorney general couldn't cancel. I think that when I die, my inheritance will all go to buying out my AT&T cell phone contract (They probably sell insurance for that.). These days it's cheaper to get a divorce than to cancel a cell phone contract. It's like I'm in a covenant marriage with someone who keeps renegotiating the marriage license each time I come home from work. "But honey, I didn't mean to use all the data this month." ... "Well that's too bad, because now you're on the super-high-cost plan and you're stuck with me for another two years." Marriage advocates have nothing on cell carriers.

Now I sit here, after almost a week without a phone, and AT&T says my new phone arrives tomorrow. You know what? I'm not sure I want it.

There are some amazing things that happen when you're forced to live a week without a cell phone. Perhaps the most noticeable difference is the amount of sheer decision making that begins to take place. Seriously. I never realized how often I took a picture of something, sent it to my wife and asked, "Should we get the blue one or the green one." This week, I just picked it out — and there's no discussion on the matter. She didn't feel like she should have been consulted because she knew I didn't have a phone. I made the decision in half the time and got on with my life.

But that was just the beginning. Instead of blindly driving in a general direction and relying on my map app to get me somewhere, I actually planned my route. Again, sounds simple, but I think I saved a lot of time, not to mention several gallons of gas.

Instead of checking Facebook every time I felt bored, I read a real book. It was so much more satisfying than reading updates about what my friends had for lunch, veiled threats to annoying co-workers and invitations to some new farming game. I still checked Facebook and Twitter, I just did it more sparingly ... which actually made the experience better.

Not having a phone made me think through everything I was about to do before leaving my home or office. That's a lesson I want to keep, as it increased my efficiency in a number of ways. Knowing I couldn't have access when I left prompted me to be more organized than ever with very little effort.

But more than any other outward difference in my day to day life, I experienced a significant difference most people would never notice. I have lived for six days almost completely devoid of interruptions. I didn't realize this until just recently when I looked back on my week and noticed how productive I've been. Well no kidding. My phone calls only came from one source, my office line. When I wasn't near it, I didn't answer it. When I came back near it again, I responded to the messages, which were far fewer in number. I checked email when I was at my desk. Text messages disappeared altogether. The sheer volume of information streaming at me all day was reduced or contained in neat, efficient compartments.

I also determined that the overwhelming amount of that information was low-priority ... meaning, it could wait. It could wait until the next meeting. It could wait until I got home. It could wait until the weekend or next week or, sometimes, next month to be discussed. But for some reason, having my cell phone plugged me into what everyone is thinking and, not hearing that, has been ... blissful, to at least some degree.

Did I miss my phone? Sometimes. Honestly, there were only two or three moments in the past six days when I felt like I really needed one. Each instance seemed related to deadlines. When we're on a deadline large or small, a cell phone can be a pretty handy way to get quick information, especially via text message. But when I compare that one feature to the sense of peace, productivity and (believe it or not) efficiency I experience without the phone, I find it difficult to think it's worthwhile.

I invite you to try it. "Lose" your phone for a week. Rely on landlines. Check your email when you're at your desk. Check your social media when you're at home. See what happens. For me it's been a nice awakening. I became more productive. I became more efficient. I became more relaxed. I'll go back to my phone tomorrow with a new perspective on what it provides for me and what it takes away. I'll strive to remember these seven days that made me realize cell phones are not a necessity and that, living without one ... even for a little while ... can actually make me stronger.