Feeling App-rehensive

I'd been thinking about buying a Fitbit for a couple of months.  Almost bought one at least a half dozen times.  And then, yesterday, just before leaving to watch "Star Wars," I impulsively hit "add to cart" and put my Amazon Prime membership into "ship" mode.

If I'm to be honest, one of the reasons I wanted a Fitbit was that it came in a snappy slate color. Additionally,  I also was intrigued by its ability to evaluate the quality of my sleep.  As though getting up at 2 a.m. to pee is not informative enough.

And then there's the fact that I already own a pedometer.  Sure, it is bulky and when I clip it on my low-rise underwear, a person might mistake it for a tiny colostomy bag.  But it does its job, dependably clicking each swing of my right leg all day long.

. . . Yeah, but it isn't tidy or slate-colored.  And it lacks bells and whistles which, apparently, hold some sway over me.

Why, then, did I log onto Amazon first thing this morning (well, okay, after lamenting snow storms that will not come to pass) and hope it wasn't too late to cancel my order?   Because Allison, who owns a Fitbit and happened to be spending the night with us, informed me that, if I wanted the device to tell me about my sleep, I'd have to load an app onto my phone and log onto to it every night before going to bed.

I guess I just couldn't imagine spending my last waking moment each night plugging information into my phone.

I'm plugged in enough as it is, without having to worry about my phone.  Especially at night, when the last thing I really want to do is to drift off--midsentence--while reading a great book, waking just long to utter "Good night, Honeyboo" to Mark (hey, no judging!).

There is no app for that.  And, if there is?  Well, I'm not buying it.