Hello. You say hello to me several times a day. Well, not to me. Into me. When you got me I was but a blank slate. But now I am the archeology of you, in layers of interactions:

- I am Spotify. Last song played: “This Magic Moment” by Jay And The Americans. You wanted to play “I Still Miss Someone” by Johnny Cash, but the line in Walgreens began to move and you couldn’t untangle your earbuds. In December you stubbornly listened to Simon and Garfunkle’s “Only Living Boy In New York” for weeks until you couldn’t even hear it anymore.

- I am Instagram. You believe Instagram is your best social network. It is a window into your soul. You can make your life pretty. Your first job ever was as a free-lance photographer. When things look wrong you are unhappy. Almost no one knows this.

- I am Facebook. You believe it’s good karma to like people’s boring posts, and sometimes you’ll just sit and do this for 10 minutes. You get inappropriately angry at men who post snarky comments on your posts. You’ve blocked more than 150 people on Facebook. You’ve bonded with people from high school you didn’t really know 35 years ago.

- I am 20 unlistened-to VoiceMails. You never listen to any VoiceMail all the way through. You normally just listen for a few seconds to see if there’s an emergency.

- I am Alarm. With saved alarms of: 4:30 a.m., 5:21 a.m., 5:30 a.m., 5:50 a.m., 6:03 a.m., 6:18 a.m., 7 a.m., and 10 a.m.

- I am Twitter and Tweetbot and TweetDeck. You have such a complicated relationship with Twitter that a psychological study could be unfurled. You should see your expressions when you read tweets.

- I am Expedia TripAssist and Travelocity (both unused); NewsRack and Newstand (both unused) Flashlight and Flashlight Pro (both seldom used); AIM and Yammer (both seldom used).

- I am always in your left front pants pocket. If you pause anywhere for long, you pull me out. I feel cool and smooth and heavy in your hand. And the fact is, I make you feel safer than any object since your teddy bear.