It started with a targeted ad, as all modern tragedies do. The internet knows I am a bear of leisure. Yet, for some reason, it decided I needed to “optimize my wellness.” It showed me a sleek, black wristband that promised to track my steps, monitor my sleep, and “unlock my potential.” I don’t want to unlock my potential. I want to keep my potential safely locked away where it can’t make me do cardio. But I bought it anyway. I thought, Maybe it will validate how good I am at sleeping. Spoiler alert: It did not do that.

The Bullying Begins

The first sign of trouble was the “Stand Goal.” Apparently, this device believes that sitting for more than fifty minutes is a personal failure. At 10:50 AM, while I was in the middle of a very important stare-at-the-wall session, my wrist buzzed. I looked down. The screen displayed a cheerful little stick figure standing up, accompanied by the command: “Time to Stand!” Excuse me? I do not tell this watch when to charge. I do not tell it when to update its firmware. I do not appreciate a piece of plastic telling me when to elevate my torso. I dismissed the notification and aggressively remained seated out of spite. Ten minutes later, it buzzed again. It said I had “Missed my hour.” Good. I hope it was disappointed.

The Heart Rate Incident

The real issue, however, arose during my afternoon nap. As a bear, I am an elite sleeper. When I commit to a nap, I power down completely. My breathing slows, my heart rate drops, and I become one with the sofa. I was deep in a dream about a river made of honey when my wrist started vibrating violently. It wasn’t the gentle “time to wake up” buzz. It was the frantic “The house is collapsing” buzz. I groggily lifted my arm. The screen was flashing red. “HEART RATE LOW. ARE YOU OKAY?” Below that, a countdown had started. “Calling Emergency Services in 5… 4…” The watch thought I had passed away. I had to scramble to find the “Cancel” button, which is surprisingly hard to do when you have paws and are half-asleep. I managed to stop it with one second to spare. I almost had to explain to a paramedic that I wasn’t dying; I was just extremely relaxed.

The Data Shaming

I decided to check my “Daily Summary” to see if I got any credit for the adrenaline spike of almost calling the police. The data was humiliating.

• Steps: 42 (mostly to the fridge and back).
• Calories Burned: 12 (digesting a donut).
• Sleep Score: “Concerning.” The app actually suggested I consult a physician because my movement levels were “consistent with a comatose patient.” It didn’t understand that for Barry, this is peak performance.

The Verdict

I took the watch off. It is currently sitting in a drawer, probably tracking the movement of dust particles and panicking that the desk has no pulse. If you are looking for a device to shame you into walking around the block, buy a smart watch. If you want to live in peace, buy a calendar, cross out all the days, and go back to bed. I am going to nap now. Without the robot on my wrist. If I don’t wake up, assume I am just having a really good dream.