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Frumpy Mom: I didn’t use my Fitbit today. Oh yeah. I don’t have one.

May 6, 2026

Don’t judge me, but I did not walk 10,000 steps today. Whew, it’s a relief to get that out of the way. Confession is good for the soul.

Truthfully, I have no idea how many steps I walked, because the only Fitbit I ever owned is now so old that the Smithsonian wants to add it to their collection of obsolete objects.

I lost the aforementioned Fitbit many years ago and never replaced it. This was probably a subconscious refusal to be enslaved by anything attached to my wrist. Freedom fighters unite! Either that or I just didn’t want to read the results, which undoubtedly make me look like a lazy, pathetic loser.

Anyway, I recently stumbled across this fine device somewhere in my bedroom — I’ve already forgotten where — and I tossed it into a different drawer, because that’s what you do with things you never plan to use again, right?

I’m guessing you have a similar drawer in your house. One where you keep things that you have no use for, but you can’t really bring yourself to get rid of, because someday they might come in handy. Of course, if that time ever comes, you won’t remember what you did with it, so this plan has a fatal error.

Occasionally, I think I should keep a notebook just to record what I did with things when I put them away to be safe. Also, to keep track of books I’ve lent out that I will never see again.

I’m still looking for my copy of “I Can Make You Hot!: The Supermodel Diet” by Kelly Killoren Bensimon. Obviously, you can tell by my picture that I never got a chance to read it before I lent it out. But, then, none of my friends have mysteriously started looking hot, so that prevents me from figuring out where it went.

Besides, I’ve known a few glamorous models in my time, and the way they stay hot is by living on fewer than five individual leaves of lettuce at each meal, and then purging them afterwards.

I do harbor a secret, guilty desire to become a sexy, hot grandmother, but I just can’t give up food to do it. When you’re as old as dirt like I am, there aren’t that many true pleasures to enjoy regularly, and eating is one of them.

Many of my friends do have these Fitbit devices, and they love to brag about them. “I walked 22,041 steps today!” they’ll happily tell anyone who will listen.

Good for you. Make sure you tell that anecdote at my funeral, since you’ll obviously live longer than I will based on your healthy devotion to exercise.

Maybe you can make a note of it on your Apple Watch — another device designed to enslave you to technology every waking second.

It’s so wonderful to have lunch with a friend I haven’t seen in ages, only to notice they look at their watch every two minutes. Are my long stories boring them? Are they trying to see how long until they can escape the living hell of lunch with me? I know I have bad table manners, so maybe that’s just unpleasant to see.

Maybe they just don’t like seeing me with tears in my eyes as I pour out my latest personal tragedy, so they check their watches obsessively to avoid eye contact with me.

To be honest, it’s usually that they’re being notified that they’ve received an email or text, so they keep looking at their watch to see who’s contacting them. In the hope, I imagine, that it will be someone more interesting than me.

This tends to get me to clam up very quickly, as I realize they really don’t want to listen to my tale of woe. Embarrassing, to say the least. When the waiter walks by, I signal for the check.

Because of my deep-rooted insecurity about this, I have asked certain friends not to wear their Apple watches when we get together. This annoys them no end. But if you can’t sit and talk to me for an hour without checking your email, you’re probably too powerful and important to be my friend anyway.

I also have a friend who sits down to eat with me in a restaurant, and then immediately pulls out her phone and starts posting some missive on social media.

Really? Really? I ask her if she can’t do that later. She responds with, “I really want to get this posted now. It will only take a minute.” Yes, a few minutes where I have nothing to do except sit and glare at her, thinking of how I could kill her without getting caught.

Another friend takes phone calls while we’re together and chats away with the caller, oblivious to the fact that I drove across town just to see her. Oh, wait. I seem to have gotten off track here somehow. I was talking about Fitbits.

Well, let’s pretend we’re just talking about technology in general. Technology is good. It’s why I can sit in my recliner without moving and still plan my whole evening, make reservations for dinner and buy tickets for a movie. Then schedule an appointment to get my car’s oil changed tomorrow, look for a library book I want to check out, order groceries for delivery and sign up to attend a concert.

And maybe I’ll even buy myself a new Fitbit online. Maybe this time I won’t lose it.

Write to me at mfisher@scng.com. And follow me on Facebook at facebook.com/FrumpyMiddleagedMom. We have fun on there!

Orange County Register

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Frumpy Mom: I didn’t use my Fitbit today. Oh yeah. I don’t have one.

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