Confessions of a Blackberry addict

I have a confession: I love my BlackBerry.

It’s my window to the world at any point in time. It entertains me when no one familiar is around. It’s the answer to all the queries I can think of. It’s the best communication channel among my friends.

I like checking my work email at home at all hours. Cant think of a day when I didn’t check all the emails on my phone, important or not.
I like reading about what's happening at work when I'm supposed to be decompressing on vacation. It’s important to be part of the communication group even if it is not addressed to me; it makes me feel remembered and important.
It comforts me somehow. I know what's happening. I'm not missing something important, delaying my response to something crucial, or walking back into the office unaware of a brewing crisis.

Now if I'm being honest, almost never IS there a brewing crisis — certainly not one that I can't deal with swiftly when I sit down at my desk first thing in the morning. But somehow it doesn't matter, I like intrusion of privacy and then complaining about never being off work or being a workaholic.
I've woven my personal and professional lives together in my patterns and habits, and I'm OK with that.

OK, more than OK with it. It partly defines how I think about my life. When I was on maternity leave, colleagues would chastise me for constantly being on email — as if I was so stressed by work that I couldn't stop checking in. What they didn't realize was that checking in to work during that time was essential for my mental well being! Work is stimulating.

Even now, sometimes when I can't sleep, I get up and check email at odd hours of the night. It's not because of stress, it's because it helps my mind focus on something other than what woke me up. Now I'm not sure I should admit any of this to my husband cause I accuse him of being an addict. And I don't relish being in touch when technology limitations make it difficult to do so. Or when I am truly, deeply in a family moment and I don't want to think about work. But in reality, most of the time, I want to stay in touch — it's interesting.

So I confess, I have blurred the lines between work and home and I've done it on purpose. One feeds and stimulates the other. How about you? Are those lines sacred or do you, like me, secretly like being at home and at work at the same time?

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