• Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Google +

Cleaning my phone

Cleaning my phone - Barbara Johnson

While I was waiting for my mother to finish her discussion with the technician who’s doing the access control installation GTA I stayed in the car listening to music and going through the photos on my phone. A few days back when I wanted to take a photo, I couldn’t do it because I have reached the space limit on both the phone and memory card.

Thus I had to delete some of the photos and videos I had in order to be able to take new ones.

At a first look, I needed or I wanted to keep all of them, which was not a realistic plan. I decided to delete those with me and leave only the photos with the children. Even those were into the order of several hundreds.

Next I started to go through the videos and delete those that were not showing anything spectacular. That was a hard task, as most of them were videos showing my kids performing a certain activity or another. I had to narrow it down even more. Therefore, if I had couple of videos of the same event, I kept only one, instead of having three or four of them.

While I was deleting them I felt somehow worried that I would end up regretting my decision, as if I would need at one point precisely those videos that I had just deleted.

This last line should tell you how addicted we are to our gadgets. I realized that whenever something happened, I witnessed that event through the phone’s camera lense. I have always been behind the camera, documenting everything as if I was a news reporter, reporting live.

It took me about forty minutes to clean my phone’s memory and reduce its content to close to half.

Whatever I kept, I planned to download it and save it on an external drive. It would be nice for the kids to have recordings with them and see themselves in a few years, when they would be grown.

I wish there were such devices when we were kids! Maybe then I would have had more than two pictures from my childhood. Can you believe that my parents did not bother to take photos of me until I was five years old? My first picture dates from my first day at kindergarten. I alway teased them saying that I was adopted at the age of five. That explains the lack of photos.

 

The author:

author

Barbara Johnson is a Ontario businesswoman, speaker and blogger specializing in social networking strategies. She holds a Master of Science in ECommerce from the University of Toronto.