Ever since I returned from Burning Man, I have felt a gut twinge whenever I’ve put on my wrist watch. Somehow wearing the arm band has felt more like a shackle to the default world rather than a useful tool in a convenient package. Weekends have been largely watch-free, but today is the first work day that I’ve deliberately left the wrist watch at home. Yes, I have a clock on my person in the form of the modern day pocket watch (i.e., mobile phone), but I’m no longer encumbered by the physical band around my arm. The feeling is strangely liberating.