Tuesday, July 31, 2001

There are some things you don't want to learn about yourself.

You don't want to know that you're the kind of person who wouldn't report a cashier's error in your favor, or that you'd pack Cheerios for your infant and then wolf them down yourself, or that, given the chance, you'd read a friend's mail.

My watch broke recently, and, after a few days of constant but pointless wrist checking, it hit me: I don't need to know the time down to the minute. A sundial would be fine, or a calendar.

``Don't tell anyone,'' a friend advised. ``It doesn't reflect well on you.''

Some things you're glad you don't need, like expensive jewelry or foie gras. ``I can be happy without it,'' you can say smugly.

But getting by without a watch, that's a different story. It hints - no, screams - at a certain lack of plans.

Like not having a computer or a Palm Pilot, going without a watch is something best kept to oneself, except how can you, when you wear your irresponsibility on your sleeve?

``I'm wearing my watch today even though it broke when I was swimming,'' a man confided when he noticed the tell-tale tan line on my wrist.

``I don't want people to think I've lost my job, or that I'm becoming detached from society.''

During the weekend, as I began to deal with my new status as an ``ish'' person (as in ``I'll meet you at 6-ish''), I thought back to my former self and realized what a showoff I'd been.

``I'll see you at 12:30,'' I'd say, looking down at my wrist. ``I've got 11:35 now.'' Or, ``Let's hurry, it's 10:13 and we have to be there by 11.''

As a watch-free person, I've learned the world is divided, no, not into 24 time zones, but into two camps: those who wear a watch and those who don't.

But who, in the end, is more punctual? I conducted a survey.

``I'm a watch person,' a watch person told me, ``but I'm always late. I use it to see how late I am.''

Without her watch, she's ``totally stressed.''

``Looking at a public clock or reading the time on my cell phone doesn't do it for me,'' she said. She needs the comfort of her own timepiece.

``I wear it even when I sleep,'' another watch person said. ``I need to know the time.''

``Why?'' I asked.

He didn't know.

``I can't function without my watch,'' another watchie told me. She can't drive or cook or watch TV, she said.

It sounded crazy, but as someone who can't hear without her contact lenses, I knew what she meant.

At that moment, a rare watchless-by-choice soul happened by.

``I don't wear one. Ever,'' she said. ``Unless it's an accessory. If I'm wearing a suit, I'll wear one.''

And yet she, with her unblemished wrist, is never late. ``I always leave early to allow enough time,'' she explained.

Now that I've crossed over to the other side, I see that watches provide something other than the time: the illusion of control.

But as I've learned from checking the nutritional values of all food before consumption - did you know that 38 grams of chocolate raspberry sticks from Trader Joe's have 160 calories? - information isn't always helpful.

You know, I may never wear a watch again.

Oh my gosh, I've got to go. Look at the time. I'm past deadline.