The Tamagotchi

It's me again. I just remembered something from a long time ago. I think it was 1996. My parents got me something which I think was the first thing making my usage 'problematic'.

I'm of course referring to the Tamagotchi. It's basically a pocket-sized game with a small screen and three buttons. Calling it a game is actually a stretch - it's a life simulator, and one of the earliest I can think of. You're basically asked to care for a digital creature from birth to death, and make sure it stays healthy the entire time. In other words: You feed it, you make it do number 1 and 2 if needed, you pet it and you give it medicine whenever it's sick.

And this, I'm telling you, is no easy task. The Tamagotchi can't be paused, and demands constant attention. If you leave it too long - it'll get sick and die. Which is why I felt guilted into nurturing this digital... thing, even in the classroom. It created a huge amount of trouble for me, since I suddenly found myself disinterested in anything else. Such as learning Norwegian grammar. Or math. Everything, really.

Listening to the lecture really brought back some memories. Playing the Tamagotchi was the first time I felt addicted - seeing the creature well and healthy made me feel fulfilled in a sense. In the same way, watching it roll around in pain from my carelessness was terrible. "FAEN DA, IKKE DOE!", I'd yell. Don't die, dammit! But the game was always too demanding. And I felt compelled to keep it going.

Haha, it's interesting. I was being a parent at the age of 6. It's a tough life when you remove the pause-button. Truly is.