I got a FitBit for some reason I’m not clear on: my dad suggested it, like when you recommend something to someone to help justify it for yourself, and my wife left hers at a friend’s house who then lost it and bought another one which my wife ran through the laundry she thinks, and was entitled to a replacement through the Target Warranty Purchase Plan.
So I called the number and started the process. I never used a FitBit, had only a loose understanding of how they work. I had the kind of attitude I don’t need a stupid device to convince me to exercise.
I thought I’d just call and explain it doesn’t work and they’d give me like an RA or something so I could send it back but instead, they want to troubleshoot to verify it truly doesn’t work.
She starts asking me to perform basic functions with the FitBit and I have to lower myself to pretend, to act it out, to say Hold on, as I feign activity on the other end of the line.
And I shake my head on the phone and say Nope, it’s still not working, and she approves me for whatever is next, which I’m not clear about either.
A week later we get a new FitBit in the mail and I take it into Target, to explain 1) I got this from FitBit because that’s what Target told me to do, and 2) I want to upgrade it to a different model and exchange this device.
But this is difficult because the unit I’m returning doesn’t have a number associated with it in the Target system.
Despite, the enthusiastic Target associate manipulates the POS through some deftery others gather around to observe, to enable my exchange.
I’m about Week 2 with the FitBit now. I never take it off, except to shower, a couple times a week. Tonight, I got into bed with my book and pushed the button out of boredom, just to see where I was with my step count.
I was just shy of 20,000, which had never happened before. I thought maybe it would vibrate or I’d get a fucking email with a squirrel on it or something if I hit 20,000, so I got up and walked downstairs in the dark, naked, hitting the button to see had I gotten 20,000 yet?
Interacting with your house in the dark is like being on acid: everything is familiar but distinctly different at the same time, maybe dangerous. It’s a metaphor for the unknown, the dark. It’s with us always and where we need to be if we want to Pass Through.
I start pacing the different rooms on the first floor, thinking this is ridiculous, and realize I’m over 20,000 and it hasn’t even done anything yet.
I’m coming up on my 500th post, I think. And what an accomplishment that will be, right? (Word count: 491.)