--You have auditory hallucinations of text tone chimes, kind of like you used to hallucinate your newborn baby crying at all hours of the day and night even when he or she was fast asleep.
--Losing your phone for five seconds makes you feel like you just lost someone else's 4 year-old child at the Big Apple Circus.
--Plugging your phone into a rare-as-a-unicorn charging station in an airport terminal feels exactly like plugging a needle full of heroin into your left forearm. (Or so you imagine, having never actually done that).
--You demand that your phone correctly answer every question from "what time is this movie playing?" to "how do I get to Main Street" to "were the Hapsburgs really inbreeds?" and then yell at it like it was your old, crotchety, racist deaf uncle when it fails to understand what you said.
--It's the last thing you look at before you go to bed at night and the first thing you look at when you wake up in the morning, and you fucking hate yourself for it.
--You're consciously worried that you are actively traumatizing your kids with your phone use, so you phsyically put it in another room when you're with them, only to have one of them demand that you text someone's mom for a play date five seconds later.
--You deeply and acutely resent your phone for being a direct digital pipeline to literally every single asshole who has ever fucked you over in any way in the past, who is currently fucking you over in the present, or who is guaranteed to fuck you over in the future.
--You simultaneously resent and envy those people who are all like, "Oh, I took Facebook off my phone and I keep it in a gun safe all day." You know what?! Good for you! GOOD FOR FUCKING YOU.
That's right. Go ahead. You do you. And I'll do me, wishing I was you. HAPPY NOW, FUCKHEAD?!
Now please move along before I punch you in the junk, and/or excuse me as I shove these little white earbuds in my ears and pretend I'm dead.