Tech things we never get around to
22nd Jun 2012 | 11:20
Who charges their electric toothbrush anyway?
It's normally the latter, a lot of the tech in our lives just asks for one small moment of your time for a recharge, or one afternoon in a year, but it's just too much. Here are ten tech things that we just never get around to doing.
Cleaning out the fridge properly
If you were to melt the huge ice caps deep at the back of your sub-Smeg you’d find intrepid explorers lost to the ages. Noble condiments such as cranberry sauce and Fortnum’s whiskey mustard (went AWOL around Christmas 2002), eccentrics like anchovy paste (MIA since 2008) and chilli piccalilli (presumed dead since 2006). Finally, there’s the old guard: cucumber, leaking out of his plastic wrapper, blackened with frostbite, and individual peas, studded in the ice like ammonite fossils. The little plastic spatula provided with the fridge for defrosting duties just doesn’t really cut it…
Getting rid of tech boxes
You never know when you might have to move house in a hurry, so it makes sense to keep the packaging materials for things you buy. Unfortunately, with your kitchen cupboards stacked high with boxes for fondue sets, slow cooker, juicer and your old toaster, not to mention every set of wine glasses ever bought, and several rooms filled with packaging for tellies, stereos and PCs, you’re going to have to move sooner rather than later.
As you look at your bloated belly before going to bed you sigh and commit to buying an exercise bike. Trouble is, when you look at yourself again in the morning you’re slimmer than you’ve even been! Hurrah! One sip of water later and BOOM! It’s time to change into a different shirt, lest your workmates think you’ve swallowed a bowling ball. Repeat until death.
Winning on Amazon
One day we will get round to going through all 900 pages of “Recommendations for you”, ticking off the ones we’ve already got and giving star ratings. One day we’ll get round to chasing the Manic Street Preachers CD we ordered in 2006 but which never arrived. But not today.
Clearing up your Sky box
You’re the stockbroker of the couch world who has been trying riskily to keep your planner above nine per cent for a year, but then… you go on holiday. The birds back in Blighty scatter from the trees as they hear your scream from the balcony of your Lanzarote villa; you left Come Dine With Me on series link, you fool! It’s on at least once a day and takes up three per cent each time! There’s only one option: retiring to the drawing room with a revolver and a bottle of Scotch.
Charging the toothbrush
Because you’re too lazy to carry the Ultroclean 7000 to its little home in your bathroom (ie: where that weird two prong plug socket is), every morning you stand in silence dragging this huge, non-vibrating chunk of plastic with its tiny round head across your teeth before giving up after 20 seconds and putting it down in exactly the same place (ie: not where the plug is). Also, you haven’t changed the head since 2009, despite the wholly reasonable, £20-perbrush asking price.
Inventing an app
Remember three years ago in the pub when you said, “How about a loosely physics-based game where you shoot disgruntled birds at green pigs?” and everyone laughed? It cost you $100m, mate.
Backing up your hard drive
Not doing this is the “real life” equivalent of taking all the things you’ve collected over the years, all the things you hold dear, all your photo albums, records, diaries and books, and throwing them on the lawn for the night, going to bed and crossing your fingers. But then you are quite busy recently, what with the Sky box situation, so fair enough.
Answering correspondence from chums
Oh look, Kev’s sent me an email and a text, that’s nice. Ah, he’s sent me a Facebook message, too, excellent… yep, really enjoyed reading those; now back to the Sky box…
Reading an ebook
There you go: two seconds to download, only £4.99 and there it is on your virtual bookshelf… wasn’t that easy? Doesn’t it look sweet? Now all that’s left to do is to slip your tablet or Kindle under the sofa, head to your actual bookshelf and pull out that copy of Factotum you bought at uni.