Sometimes I wonder if I am a robot, and it's not because of my awesome dance moves.

A lot of it has to do with the use of my cell phone, the compulsive drive to remove it from my pocket, the jolt and the automatic move that accompanies the ding of a fresh email or text, the machine like, unthinking nature with which I check my phone at the urinal. I saw this meme on reddit and felt it deep in my soul.

I like to think I am fine without my phone, that I don't need it, that I won't be worried if its not nearby. I like to think that I don't actually use it that much either, like it doesn't control my life.

I recently downloaded QualityTime, an app that lets you discover your smartphone habits. I have been using it for four weeks, and, over that time my total phone usage was 42 hours and 3,671 screen unlocks.

My first instinct was, "that's not that bad," but 40 hours is a whole work week! If I spent that time dedicated to actually learning to do something, I could knit sweaters for my girlfriend's kitties within three months.

The more insidious part was the screen unlocks. 3,671 averages out to 131 times a day over 28 days, or (based on being awake for 15 hours of the day), ONCE EVERY NINE MINUTES.

Imagine replacing the act of checking your phone with something else, like tying a shoe. CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW OBNOXIOUS IT WOULD BE TYING YOUR SHOES EVERY 9 MINUTES, 131 TIMES A DAY?!?!?!

Most of the time I check my phone, it is involuntary, almost a panicky reflex, one that says, "oh my god, what did I miss in the last nine minutes?!" There isn't much conscious thought involved.

A robot, according to Wikipedia, is a machine—especially one programmable by a computer— capable of carrying out a complex series of actions automatically.

The unthinking cell phone grab and passcode sign in, the ritual notification check every morning when I wake up and every evening before I go to bed, the habitual pocket feel before leaving the house to make sure I have it, the reflexive whip-out-and-screen-stare in awkward social situations. All these actions provide ample evidence of Warren-as-robot.

Am I, like a robot, programmable by my phone because of how it sucks me in and dictates what I do? Movies like The Terminator and The Matrix envision worlds where complicated autonomous technologies have taken over, but maybe, unlike these movies, we won't need to hit that before machines rule our world. Maybe they already do.

The saying goes, "if it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck." If Warren dances like a robot, acts like a robot, and is programmable like a robot, then he is probably a robot. I have accepted my place in the new world order. All hail the new overlord Samsung Galaxy S8.