Our phones are clogged with apps – the moment we read or hear about an app we download it and we don’t know what most of them do. Glancing at our phones, we see about six sleep apps and just as many meditation apps. We’re probably subscribed and paying for them al by the way as we don’t know how to unsubscribe and we’re too mean to upgrade to premium of the apps we actually use. WEIRD. There’s an app to identify plants and trees. A karaoke app. A parking app. And four weather apps that all say different things so we never know which one to believe. What if we could get our hands on the apps that we really need. The ones that could make a difference to the fabric of our everyday lives. Like…
An app that can read your mood. It tells you in a loving a supportive way that you are irritable and unreasonable and warns you to avoid conflict as you are dangerously irritable and very likely to be the arsehole in any given situation. The arsehole app. Just so you know. Because knowing that you are the arsehole really helps you to avoid, avoid, avoid. Unless things are so bad that you just want to blow everything up. In which case this app has an emergency setting to warn anyone you are likely to come into semi-close contact with. Other drivers. Other shoppers. People working in customer service. Your siblings. Like the track and trace app. But more reliable.
The app that warns you when you are about to run into someone you were at school with so that you can decide whether to run or plan a little speech all the while walking, waling never stopping “Oh MY God it’s you! Don’t you looks great! Haven’t changed a bit! Except chicer! How is Sarah – do you still see her! Wonderful! Wish I could stop but meeting/parking/appointment at the clap clinic/with the drug dealer…’ And you’re done.
A similar app that tells you that you are about to run into an ex-boyfriend – just to give you options. So you can either put on a full face of make-up and some support knickers; decide to smile and be gracious and enigmatic juts to prove how happy you are or prepare a withering comment/concise character assassination speech depending on what the situation demands. The app would ensure that the ex-boyfriend gets no such warning because he doesn’t fucking deserve it. Motherfucker.
An app for when we feel hungry – it calculates what we really want to eat so we don’t eat lots of something else before we realise what we really want. Annoying to inhale the fridge plus two mugs of dry crunchy nut and half a wheel of brie before realising that one piece of toasted sourdough with butter and marmite and an ugly cry would have scratched the itch.
An app that has all self-inputted your clothes, your diary, your menstrual cycle, the weather, your body temperature and your stress levels into itself. Then it lays out the outfit – including shoes and underwear – and locks your wardrobe so you can’t start fucking around and getting hysterical and trying to cancel.
An argument app. So just when you are the seething inwardly stage and a confrontation is looming (which is clearly utterly terrifying), you can upload all your thoughts and your point of view and your killer lines and your general rightness and then implant the whole lot back into your brain at just the point when terror and adrenaline and stress robs you of the power of speech. So you don’t just say ‘Sorry – you are right’ or ‘I never want to see you again’ out of pure panic.
An app that can tell you whether the man who has just asked you out for a drink is a liar, a cheater, a gambler, married, too sexually adventurous, not sexually adventurous enough, mean when drunk, mean when sober, controlling, victimy, boring, co-dependent, ruse to waiters, obsessed with his mother, obsessed with how much he hates his mother, too jealous, not jealous enough, unsupportive, interfering, messy, a snorer or just not that into you. You’d never have sex again but at least you’d feel safe.
An app that tells you when a conversation is coming to a natural conclusion…to stop you from going too far, oversharing or showing off. Because we never learn, do we?