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Technology ate my holiday. Let's not even call it a holiday. Let's just call it "moving my life to a different location". Because that's exactly what I did last week, moved my office and family up the coast. We even took the dog. Now that my life has returned home, it's business as usual without any of the residual benefits of a holiday.

I am not refreshed or relaxed. I do not have a renewed perspective on life. I am not sun-kissed or sea-sprayed. No new freckles. Hell, I barely remember leaving my desk. This is because I took my desk with me. Virtually. Packed it in my suitcase along with my cossie, a tonne of kiddie paraphernalia and a book that was never opened.|

I know I'm not the first to notice how portable technology like laptops, mobiles and BlackBerrys have blurred the line between work and every other aspect of life. And at a time when many people are losing their jobs, it does feel churlish to whinge about blurry lines. It's a privileged complaint.

But gosh balls, I'm finding it hard to control the work beast. The fact I enjoy what I do makes me lucky but it also blurs the line even more. And working for myself means I've pretty much dispensed with the blur and deleted the line altogether. With a staff of roughly zero, there's nobody to mind the office when I'm away, so I'm forced to schlep it along with me. Buh-bye annual leave, I'll send you a postcard from notaholiday.com.

Technology has totally consumed the idea of downtime, hasn't it? It's gobbled up any semblance of clocking off. During my not-holiday, I estimate I spent several hours working every day. These were not consecutive hours or even minutes. Just snatches of time. Three minutes here, 10 minutes there. A phone call. Some social texts. A few emails. Some blogging. My laptop was constantly on and connected to my portable modem, so I didn't have to waste precious time waiting for it to boot up. My phone was on silent but I checked it throughout the day and took it with me whenever I left the house, still somehow managing to miss a bunch of important work calls. I limited my Twitter activity to a bare minimum and I tried to replace web surfing with actual surfing. You know, in water. I failed.

There was nothing relaxing or holiday-ish about all this, not remotely. I consider myself an accomplished multi-tasker but trying to work and play simultaneously is a mental shift that's often uncomfortably jarring for me and my loved ones, especially when we're trying to have a holiday. You see, whenever I'm on my phone or laptop, I lose the ability to hear and all my peripheral vision. You can ask me a question repeatedly and I will not hear it or see you because I am in the Technology Tunnel. My eldest child (who experiences the same affliction while watching The Biggest Loser or MasterChef) has worked out how to use my distraction to his advantage. The younger ones just escalate their demands or naughty behaviour until someone loses the plot entirely, frequently me.

This is why I don't have a BlackBerry. During the five minutes I worked in television, I had one. It came as a loaner with the job. Before that, I'd always resisted them because of my propensity to become addicted to communication devices.
"It frees you from your computer," exhorted BlackBerry devotees. "You can leave the office and go on appointments and travel without being chained to your desk," they enthused. What they neglected to mention, however, was that a BlackBerry chains your desk to you.

Initially, I imposed strict rules governing the use of my BlackBerry. The first was to keep it separate to my phone, so I didn't have to have it constantly switched on. The second rule was that I had to limit the number of times I checked it at home.
Like any addict, flimsy mental rules were not enough to keep me clean I needed razor wire and an electrified fence. Since neither came with my BlackBerry, it wasn't long before I was checking my emails ... in the shower. And, yes, this is possible if you hold your arms out far enough in front of your body. Needless to say, I was delighted to return my BlackBerry when I left that job and I never replaced it.

My laptop, however, is like a giant Life Handbag, overflowing with endless amounts of useful and useless stuff, always in need of a clean out and accompanying me everywhere.

Technology aside, my expectations for holidays are already very low due to the fact I'm a parent, which means doing your relaxing in relay form. This is interspersed with terse exchanges about whose turn it is for a break. "What do you mean you've looked after the kids all afternoon? They've been asleep for two hours so that doesn't count. Especially when I've been out buying groceries, which is not exactly reading my book on the beach while sipping a cocktail."

And don't even get me started on travel cots because my ears will start to bleed just thinking about how insufferably noisy all that nylon is.

Are we having fun yet people? Who's ready to go home? Now I just need to find a holiday destination that doesn't come with mobile reception or broadband.