Discovering Digital Minimalism

I first realized that technology was making me anxious a few years ago. Unlike most people, I carry, at all times, three devices capable of demanding my attention: a cell phone, an insulin pump, and a Continuous Glucose Monitor (CGM). The insulin pump and CGM greatly improve both my health and quality of life, and the cell phone is a near necessity of modern life. In fact, on some weeks, I am required by my job to have my phone on me at all times as part of our on-call rotation. Each of these devices used to beep or vibrate throughout the day when they needed my attention. The most frustrating time, however, was when all three of these noise-makers would go off at once. A buzz from the cell phone, I’d take it out of my pocket. Then the CGM would go off, letting my know my blood sugar was high, so I’d put down the cell phone, and pull out the CGM to silence it. Immediately after picking up the CGM, the pump goes off telling me I have 20 units of insulin left. This only had to happen three or four times before I realized that I had a problem with interruption. The fact that I can’t really do without my CGM or insulin pump meant that I began to think more deeply about how much of my annoyance was caused by my cell phone. In fact, the cell phone asked for far more of my attention than either of the other two combined. In the face of annoying but necessary and infrequent interruptions from my medical devices, the constant and meaningless interruptions of the quasi-social device in my pocket became the focus if an intense frustration. The phone had to go, or at least to become silent.

A few days ago, I began reading Cal Newport’s new book, Digital Minimalism. In it, Newport lays out an argument and evidence for why he believes many modern technologies – especially social media – are not only useless, but harmful to our mental health, and to society as a whole. He asserts that new technology, if used intentionally and for a specific purpose, can be beneficial. But the way we are encouraged to use many technologies today is neither intentional nor directed toward a specific purpose. Rather, it’s aimless, and often achieves very little aside from wasting time and putting ads in front of our eyeballs. Large companies like Facebook and Google are served by our usage of these technologies, but we, the end users, are hardly served at all. He encourages his readers to only spend time on technologies that are the best available way to pursue something that is valuable to them, and to only spend as much time using those technologies as is necessary. This idea resonated with me.

Shortly after I noticed how much anxiety my devices were causing me, I took two steps that helped relieve that anxiety. First, I adopted a one-strike policy for app notifications on my phone. The first time an app showed me a notification that I didn’t want – YouTube suggesting new videos to watch, Twitter suggesting new people to follow – I blocked all of its notifications in the settings on the OS. Once an app showed me that it wasn’t being responsible with my time, I took away its ability to demand attention. Sorry, bud: you’re done. Second, I put my phone in Do Not Disturb mode for everything but phone calls from my contacts. I told all of my friends and family – anyone who might need to get a hold of me in an emergency – that my phone only rings for calls, so that’s how to get me in an emergency. If that seems drastic, consider that perhaps fifteen years ago, telephone calls were the norm, and texting was an unusual, unreliable method of communication. People during that time got by fine. Even today, we still call 911 instead of texting 911. And, speaking of which, if the fit really hits the proverbial shan, 911 does still exist. I was confident that things would be ok.

Many people who give up distracting technology complain of an even greater anxiety that follows. It’s like the silent unknown that replaces the buzzing and pinging is somehow more unbearable. To be honest, I was so fed up at this point, that I didn’t look back. I didn’t miss the notifications, I was simply happy to have some peace. I did check my phone frequently, but I did it on my own terms, and since then I’ve slowly whittled my phone usage down to the point where I hardly check it at all. It took time, it wasn’t easy, but I’m happier for it.

I haven’t disabled Do Not Disturb mode yet, and it’s been at least two years. And the other night, when I was telling someone about my one-strike policy, I forgot whether it had been three strikes or one, because I haven’t had to enact it in a while. Anything on my phone that impertinently attracts my attention has been silenced. My insulin pump still goes off, and my CGM (which is now an app on my phone, and is the only app that is allowed to disturb me aside from phone calls) still buzzes when my blood sugar goes too high or low. But otherwise, my distraction happens on my terms. I only allow my phone to distract me when I want it to, and when I’m focused on something other than my phone, I don’t have a bunch of apps vying for my attention like a bunch of little, bratty children. I no longer have that feeling you get when your phone buzzes, and the only thing you can think about is who sent you what message. I never know when I get a meaningless notification, so I don’t have the chance to care what that meaningless notification says until I’m ready.

One night a few days ago, I somehow turned Do Not Disturb mode off. It happened at a time when a friend was texting me. My phone buzzed away in my pocket as I tried to hold a conversation. “How did I ever live like this,” I thought to myself, “this is awful. I can’t think.” I pulled it out and silenced it again.

There seems to be a perception today that people should be available all the time. That if someone texts you, you should respond right away, and that to do otherwise is rude. I reject this idea completely. I, as a person, am not on call 24/7 to respond to the whims of people who are far away. The moment I’m currently living in will never come again, but someone’s text about the weather will still be there when I have time to look at it, and if there’s fire raining from the sky, or sharks in tornadoes hurtling toward me, they can call me and I’ll answer. The expectation that we should respond to every message immediately keeps us agitated, constantly moving and ready to be disrupted. A single, unimportant message can steal our attention away from an important conversation or an illuminating thought. Being always available robs us of our ability to choose how we spend our time and who we spend it with. It lets other parties who don’t know what we’re doing, how we’re feeling, or where we are determine what we should pay attention to. And that’s not ok with me. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just choosing to respond at an appropriate time.

A central concept of Newport’s Digital Minimalism is that of the “attention economy”. I remember a time when most online services cost money. If you wanted a fancy e-mail address – or even a fancy web interface in which to read your e-mail – you had to pay for that service. More often than not, you got your e-mail address from your Internet Service provider, and if you wanted more addresses or more space, you had to pay an additional fee. Then, one day, things started to become free to use. GMail, when it was first released in Beta, was interesting to me because it was a great service that was completely free. “How did they make such a great e-mail service that so many people are using free,” I wondered. Obviously, the punch-line of this joke is advertising. These days everything is free, because everything is ad supported. If a website charges a fee, you’ll only use their service if you really want it or need it. But if that same website is free in exchange for the odd ad every now and again, sure, you’ll give it a try. The more time you spend on the site, the more ads you see, and the more money the site’s owners make. These sites are incentivized* to maintain your attention for as long as possible so they keep making money. Hence, the attention economy.

In the past few months, I’ve seen popups in my browser inviting me to allow websites to send me notifications. These are the efforts of media producers and platform owners who are desperate to drag potential ad-viewers back to their platform. Just like the meaningless notifications on my phone that I so eagerly block, telling me who’s tweeting or who just went live on Facebook, these sites want to distract me from what I turned on my computer to do, and to drag me into what they want me to do: look at ads. No, I do not want CNN to send me notifications on my computer, or for Facebook to be constantly tell me about who posted what. If I wanted to know who posted what, I would go to Facebook and look it up myself. But these platforms wouldn’t invest money in tactics like this unless they were working. The attention economy is real, and business seems to be booming.

Reading Digital Minimalism was a vindicating and enlightening experience. To read the ideas of someone who feels similarly about this problem – and who has done a lot more thinking about it than I have – was refreshing. And reading suggestions for how to be more intentional about the technology I use, and to cultivate more valuable leisure time has given me ideas to pursue in the future.

I don’t want it to seem like I’m a Luddite, or that I hate technology in general. My insulin pump and CGM offer me a lot of freedom, and my cell phone helps me coordinate and manage my life in ways that would be much more difficult without it. I’m also not anti-internet: the internet offers access to many tools and information that I think are important and useful. I might be anti-social media, but that’s not really the point I want to get across. What I am certainly against is the abuse of our rather naive human instincts in order to make money by steering us away from each other and toward meaningless sources of distraction, without any regard or understanding of what it’s doing to our lives. Most of all, if you take anything from this rambling jumble of thoughts I’ve thrown at the wall (sorry, it’s been a while and my blog-writing skills are a bit rusty), it’s this: try taking some time to disconnect. Try slowing down and removing some distractions from your life. Let it be uncomfortable and see if you can find peace in the stillness. Feel what it’s like to be alone with your own thoughts, and to spend some time taking a walk, riding a bike, or even staring out into space – no music, no notifications, no distractions – just letting your mind wander. Talk to someone and try to learn something new: focus on them. Ask them questions. Try to not only hear what they’re saying, but to truly understand the intention behind their words. Turn off your phone, and leave it at home. Try just one of these things. You can always go back if you find yourself worse off, but I don’t think you will.

*Yes, I used a horrible business word. I tried to do it with a hint of irony. I’m sorry.

2017 Tour de Cure Donation Drive

It’s that time again, ladies and gentlemen: I am fundraising for the Tour de Cure, the annual bicycle race that benefits the American Diabetes Association. Since I have diabetes, I have absolutely no shame about guilting my friends and family into donating to the cause. So let’s dive right in, shall we?

What am I donating to?

The American Diabetes Association does a lot of things to improve the lives of people with diabetes. First and foremost, they fund research that aims to prevent and cure diabetes. This is hugely important. However, while a cure is being developed, they also fund programs for people with diabetes, like Camp Carolina Trails – the summer camp for children with diabetes at which I volunteer every summer. They are also involved in government, making sure that people with diabetes have a voice in Washington, which is especially important as the Senate considers the AHCA.

Why are you doing this?

I’ve done the Tour de Cure for the past two years. It’s nice to do something tangible to try and combat this disease that often leaves me feeling powerless and not in control. Plus, I know that there are a lot of other people, including the children I work with every year at camp, who will benefit from events like this. As an added bonus, my blood sugars are great when I’m exercising, and this is an excuse to do that.

So what do I get?

I’m glad you asked! You get to see pictures of me wearing ridiculous things while I’m riding in the Tour. Last year, I created a set of donation goals, and for each one, I would another absurd item to my costume. I’ll be doing that again this year. See below.

But I donated last year, and you didn’t even send me a “Thank You” e-mail! What gives?!

You’re right. I didn’t send out “Thank You” e-mails last year, and I feel bad about it. This year, I promise I will send them out. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I’m not perfect. And while that isn’t a good excuse for lack of manners, sadly, it’s the only one I have. If you choose not to donate to my race, I hope you’ll donate to someone else’s.

Alright, what can I do to humiliate you during the race?

Here are the goals:

  • $200 – This is just the starting bid. I need to raise $200 to enter the race. But, just for you, I’ll leave the streamers on my handlebars from last year’s race (see pictures below).
  • $400 – I will attach a red cape to my jersey, and ride with it on the entire race (unless it gets caught in my bike, falls off, or otherwise becomes a hazard…)
  • $600 – I will super-glue a cowboy hat to my helmet. Last year was alien-head deely-boppers, and I think it’s time to change it up.
  • $800 – Same as last year, if I reach $800, I will attach a milk crate to the front of my bicycle, put an ET plushie (which I still have from last year) in it, and ride the race like Elliott from E.T.
  • $1000 – I really wanted to make this my fundraising goal, but I think I’ve started too late. Nevertheless, if we reach $1000, I will take your most ridiculous suggestion and incorporate it into my outfit. Please add your suggestion to your donation e-mail, comment below, or send it to me in an e-mail. If the suggestions aren’t creative enough, I will come up with my own, and I promise that it will be suitably ridiculous.

Will we make $1000 this year? Will E.T. ride 25 miles around a bicycle course in Woodinville, Washington at a charity bike race? Will the alien-head deely-boppers come off my helmet, or are they permanently welded to it with hot-glue from last year? Donate to find out!

None of that is quite humiliating enough.

Don’t worry, it’ll be enough. Did I mention that I’m riding with a company team made up from people at work, none of whom I actually know? Yeah, it’ll be plenty humiliating.

How do I donate?

Please donate through my Tour de Cure Participant Page. Donations directly to the American Diabetes Association are awesome, and I encourage them, but they won’t benefit my ride directly. Any amount helps, and I will greatly appreciate it.

Where are the pictures from last year?

Well, I’m glad you asked…

With alien-head deely-boppers... because fundraising.

Alien-head deely-boppers. Yes, people did point, stare, and take pictures.

My bicycle, complete with streamers, and a jersey with retro-gaming buttons all over it.

My bicycle, complete with streamers, and a jersey with retro gaming buttons all over it.

My race jersey with retro gaming buttons all over it.

My race jersey with retro gaming buttons all over it.

Convince me further…

I like to make this into a fun challenge, but this race is important to me, and to a lot of other people in my situation. Diabetes isn’t easy to live with, and it’s not going away any time soon. Last year, I meant to ride the 25 mile course for the first time. I trained a bit, and I thought I was ready. However, the night before the race, I experienced a perfect storm of a CGM (Continuous Glucose Monitor) sensor failure, a low blood sugar, and an extremely high blood sugar that lasted until just before the race. It was almost like diabetes knew what I was doing and was trying to stop me. That morning, I woke up at the right time, and considered not even going to the race. I felt awful. I was dehydrated and had ketones from the high blood sugar (high ketones make you nauseous; it’s not fun), I had barely slept because of the low blood sugar, and I didn’t feel like going one bit. But I drank a lot of water, drove out to the race, and although I elected to do the 10 mile race instead of the 25 mile, I completed it. I won.

Battles like this happen every day in the life of a diabetic. They’re not always quite that bad, but if you let it, diabetes will make you miserable. There are several cures for Type 1 Diabetes in the works right now, and some of them are very promising. They need funding. And, in the meantime, we need to make sure that people with diabetes have access to the community and care that they need.

So please, support my 2017 Tour de Cure ride.

Bye, 2016

Welcome back

Well it certainly has been a long time, hasn’t it. My last post was over two years ago, and as you can imagine, a lot has happened since then. Let’s make a small list, in no particular order:

  • Dog (yay!)
  • Motorcycle (huh?)
  • Various and sundry mechanical keyboards (also huh?)
  • House! … rental (oh…)
  • Started learning Irish (you what?)
  • Cured of Diabetes (just kidding)

A few weeks ago, I realized that I missed blogging. It’s not that all that many people read my blog, but I enjoy it. Having a place to show off my various personal projects encourages me to do more of them, and writing about my thoughts encourages me to think more deeply. In short, I’ve decided that blogging is good for me.

They say that it takes an average of six attempts to form a new habit (source: a class that I sat in on in college; totally reliable). And I think this is probably attempt number two, in recent memory. So who knows which side of the bell curve this latest blogging revival is on. But we’re going to give it a go.

The Year in Review

Let’s be real for a second: lots of things about 2016 shat. Yes, the latest trend on Facebook right now is to say, “I’m sick of everyone complaining about 2016. Therefore I refuse to do it, because everyone else is doing it. Harumph!” And, honestly, 2016 wasn’t all that bad. But parts of 2016 were an absolute shit-storm, and I think it’s ok to say it out loud: 2016, we’re disappointed in you. 2017, DO BETTER.

But since this is my blog, and since I call the shots here, let’s have a look at my 2016.

2016 started out with a new place to live. I rented a house for the first time, which, because of the absurdities of the Seattle housing market, ended up being cheaper than the apartment I was previously renting, and comes with more amenities… go figure. Plus, I now have a front lawn and a carport. Sweet.

Oh yeah, it snowed here in 2016 also... what? It doesn't snow in Seattle.

It also snowed here in 2016… what? It doesn’t snow in Seattle.

2016 also ushered in the age of the motorcycle for me. I bought a used, 1978 Yamaha XS650 in late 2015, got my license, and then started to ride early on in the new year. Because Seattle is wonderfully temperate, riding year-round is a possibility, and my first few months of riding occurred during the winter. This made summer riding an absolute treat.

Isn't she beautiful?

Isn’t she beautiful?

Since the bike is 38 years old, it needs a lot of love, but the engine runs great. Most of the work it needs is cosmetic, and I’m having a new seat made for it now. Other things it needs are a new tank and side-covers (or to have them repainted), new rims (I’m thinking mags), and to have the entire engine gunked and cleaned off.

In January, 2016, I also fulfilled my lifelong dream of getting an amateur radio license. For those who don’t know, amateur radio is a hobby that dates back to the early days of radio. Certain radio frequencies are reserved for people with a special civilian license, which allows them to transmit radio signals (most people are only allowed to use walkie-talkies on something called the Family Radio Service band). Radio Amateurs (sometimes called Hams) generally use their radios for hobby purposes like trying for the furthest radio contact they can make, building new radio equipment, or chatting with people all over the world. But they also volunteer as emergency and event coordinators, relaying information to make things run more smoothly.

I haven’t done much with my license yet, but I’m planning to get a nice base-station radio and start messing around with it more at some point this year. If there are any hams reading, my call-sign is KG8QEM.

This year I also delved into the world of mechanical keyboards. Yes, I’m one of those guys who make all manner of annoying clattering noise when I type. Trust me: it’s better. Honestly, I don’t really notice that much of a difference in terms of typing speed or comfort while typing, I just like the way it sounds. There’s something satisfying about the clunk of the keys as you hammer out an e-mail or a line of code. It’s nice. And everyone around me has to deal with it. (Actually, plenty of other people at work had mechanical keyboards before me, so it’s fine.)

Another life-long dream that I’ve fulfilled this year is starting to learn Irish. For those of you who are saying, “You mean English?” or “But, don’t they speak English in Ireland?”, let’s take a moment to talk about Ireland. Ireland has its own language called “Irish Gaelic” or, simply, “Irish”. It’s related to Scottish Gaelic and Breton (spoken by some people in northern France), but it is far different from English. Irish is the official language of Ireland, although most Irish people do speak English primarily. Presumably this has something to do with the fact that the British Empire ruled over Ireland for a long time, just like it did the United States, India, Canada, and a variety of other countries. Like most of those countries, Ireland broke off from the British Empire and formed its own Republic, which happened in 1949.

That’s you Irish history lesson for the day. Irish sounds really cool, and for whatever reason, I’ve wanted to learn it for a long time. So I’m doing that now.

Finally, there’s the Diabetes thing. No, I haven’t been cured. Neither, for that matter, has everyone else. My feelings about diabetes have developed a lot in the past year though, and I’m going to save that discussion or discussions for other blog posts. However, I did ride in the annual Tour de Cure for the second time this year, and I plan to ride again in 2017.

With alien-head deely-boppers... because fundraising.

With alien-head deely-boppers… because fundraising.

That’s it, my 2016 year in review. All said and done, 2016 was a good year for me personally, even though the world as a whole lost a lot. I hope 2017 is better for everyone.

Oh yeah, I also got a fish in 2016. His name is Norbert.

Oh yeah, I also got a fish in 2016. His name is Norbert.

Lessons from My First Three Months as a Real Adult

As of five days ago, I have have been a real, proper adult for three months. That is, I’ve been working at my first real, full-time job for three months. In the years that led up to my graduation, I wondered what the switch from the academic life to the professional life would be like, and many of those wonderings have made their way onto this blog. So it’s only fair that I update you on how things have turned out so far.

Here are a few things I’ve noticed about adulthood so far, in no particular order.

1. Food is Expensive

You sort of take food for granted when you’re living at home. Even while I lived in my own apartment, I would still pop home fairly frequently and take advantage of a free meal and the opportunity to raid the pantry for things I needed. Plus, when you’re working, you don’t have nearly as much time to cook, so if you’re not careful, you end up eating out a lot. My first month or two here, I spent more on food than I did on rent. For context, I live alone in a city where rent is fairly expensive. Granted, for the first month I was in corporate housing with no kitchen, which meant that I had to eat out for nearly every meal, but that’s still a lot of damn money on food.

By the way, don’t believe the statistics about “average expenditure” on food. I’m not sure where they get those numbers, but as far as I can tell, they’re a load of crap.

2. Bills Aren’t as Bad as Everyone Says

People spend a lot of time whining and complaining about how many bills they have to pay*. They bitch and moan and put it off to the last minute, and then freak out and complain some more when their payment is overdue. But it’s really not that big a deal. First of all, many bills these days can be paid online, which makes bill-paying a non-event. I don’t do auto-payments, because I like to track my expenses, and because I don’t trust companies to pay themselves directly from my account or credit card. But even so, the most I have to do to pay a bill is log in, punch in my credit card number**, click submit, and go about my day. It usually takes a grand total of two minutes, and then I can go back to playing Legend of Zelda, baking cookies, or whatever it is I do in my free time.

I suspect that people just don’t like to see all that money leaving their account, and that I can understand. It’s always a little disheartening to see all that money roll in on pay day just to watch it slowly trickle out of your account as you pay one bill after another. Nevertheless, life goes on.

3. There Are Less Hours in the Day

In college, I spent roughly four or five hours in class per day. I then spent far less than the recommended amount of time studying and doing homework outside of school. In my part-time job, I spent very little time working, most of which was during the summer. So my days were pretty much free. As much as I complained about not having any time to do things, I had butt-tons of time to do whatever the hell I wanted, I just squandered it all. How? Not a clue. When I try to add up a typical school day in my mind, I come up around 5 hours short. Where did all that time go? What was I doing? Was I regularly and frequently abducted by aliens? I don’t know, but that time vanished.

When you spend an average of 8 hours per day at work, you wind up with less time in your day. I need to get around 8 to 9 hours of sleep per night to function like a normal human being, which means that about 17 hours of my day (including work) are written off from the start. Factor in an hour of transportation time, and that leaves me with 7 hours of free time. A good bit of that time is spent slogging through my morning routine and, by the end of the day, I have about 5 hours to myself.

Now,  I’m certainly not the first person to mention the fact that working adults have less free time than students, and I’m not complaining about it. On the contrary, I kind of like it. Having less time in my day makes me appreciate the time that I do have, and on the weekends when I have all the free time in the world, I make a decent use of it. That doesn’t mean that I go out saving the world, wrestling bears, curing cancer, and climbing mount Everest, sucking every single drop out of the marrow-bone of life. But it does mean that I enjoy my free time more.

4. There’s So Much More Time

When I was in school, everything felt finite and ephemeral. Things needed to be done immediately, and my longest term goal was to get a job at the end of my degree. Now that I’m working, I have quite a few goals that stretch two and three years away. One of the hardest parts about working so far has been forcing myself to realize that not everything has to happen now: I don’t have to rush into as many things for fear that they won’t be around anymore. Granted, some things you have to rush into, but there are other goals that you can stretch out. It’s a process of calming down, stepping back, and controlling my life deliberately rather than impulsively. And although it’s hard, it feels pretty good.

5. You Can’t Tell Me What To Do

If I want to eat chicken wings for dinner four nights in a row (which I’ve done once… at least), no one can tell me not to. If I want to fill my room with playpen balls, no one can stop me (haven’t done this one yet). Most of the time, I use this freedom to do fairly mundane things. The other day, for example, I spent the entire day designing and 3D printing a Jammie Dodger cookie cutter, and then making Jammie Dodgers from scratch. They were delicious, and it was a glorious day. Every Sunday morning I make pancakes for breakfast, and this Sunday I made one that was almost as big as my plate because I CONTROL THE SPATULA NOW, SON!

People think that becoming an adult is boring; there’s the so called “daily grind”, and paying bills, and having to be responsible. When people raise these concerns to me, my response is usually “Fuck. That.” Being an adult means you make the decisions. It means no one has the right to tell you when to brush your teeth***, when to go to bed, or what you can and can’t wear. You make your own life, you set your own expectations, and you decide which paths you do and do not want to take. Some of the most inspiring people in the world are the ones who ignored what people told them adulthood was going to be like, and decided what their own adulthood was going to be like. You’re going to spend the majority of your life being an adult, so what’s the point if you don’t enjoy it?

Look at that boss.

Look at that boss.

6. It Can Be Lonely If You Let It

In college, you’re bombarded by people, fliers, posters, and announcements urging you to sign up for this, volunteer for that, and go out to some other thing. This isn’t really the case when you’re an adult. I don’t mean to say that these opportunities don’t present themselves, but they’re not as abundant, and they’re not always as easy to find. Slowly but surely, it’s easy to settle into an unhealthy routine, especially if you’re a bit introverted (like me). Fortunately though, you’re reading this, so you’ll know that all you have to do when you start feeling like a hermit is to go on a site like or look around your local burger joint or hobby shop for some fliers advertising meetings, find something that piques your interest, and go to it. It’s hard at first, but it will very quickly be easy again.

Here’s the Deal

So far I’m enjoying being an adult. On occasion I’ve been afraid that being an adult would be a slow, steady descent into retirement, but so far I’m pleasantly surprised. The thing is, like just about everything else in life, it’s what you make of it. It can be a great experience, or it can be a miserable experience. Since this is how I’m going to spend 80% of my life, I’m choose to enjoy it.

*I recognize that I’m very privileged to not have trouble making ends meet, and I don’t intend to demean those who do have trouble paying their bills. If you complain about all the bills you have to pay because you’re having trouble scraping together the money to do so, then I certainly sympathize.

**If your credit card is your primary mode of payment, I highly recommend memorizing your credit card number, the expiration date, and the CVV security number on the back. These three numbers will make you feel really cool, and will save a bit of time with every bill you pay.

***Please though, do brush your teeth even though no one is telling you that you have to. Everyone around you will appreciate it.