Have you ever noticed how the simplest things in life somehow become the most unnecessarily complicated? I swear, half my frustration these days doesn’t come from “big problems.” It comes from companies, people, and situations that overthink something that should have been easy.
Think about buying something online. You’d think clicking “Add to Cart” would be simple, right? Wrong. Suddenly, you’re trapped in a labyrinth of upsells, pop-ups, and warranty add-ons, with the question: “Do you want to protect this $12 item for only $4.99 a month?” Excuse me? No, I don’t need a lifetime guarantee for my spatula. Just let me check out without feeling like I’m negotiating an international trade deal.
Another thing: customer service that doesn’t actually serve. You call a company, desperate to talk to a human being, and you get the robot menu of doom: “Press 1 for billing. Press 2 for technical support. Press 3 to go slowly insane.” You pick an option, wait on hold for what feels like forever with distorted elevator music, and then get disconnected.
When you finally reach a human, they transfer you three more times because apparently no one is allowed to answer a straightforward question anymore. By the time you resolve the issue – if you even do – you’ve wasted an entire afternoon and lost faith in humanity.
Let’s talk packaging. Why does everything come encased in plastic strong enough to withstand a nuclear blast? You buy a pair of scissors, and you need another pair of scissors to open them. That is peak irony. Half the time I end up with sore hands, cut fingers, and a newfound respect for whoever invented dynamite, because that’s what it feels like you need to get into these packages.
Work isn’t safe either. Nothing screams “pointless” like a meeting scheduled to plan another meeting. Half the time, the actual issue could have been solved in a two-line email. Instead, you sit there for an hour while people circle the same three points like vultures waiting for something to drop dead. By the time the meeting ends, the only thing accomplished is setting the date for the next one.
And can someone explain why every gadget now needs an app? My toaster doesn’t require Bluetooth. I don’t need push notifications about my bagel. Not everything has to be “smart.” Some things should just do their job quietly without demanding Wi-Fi and a software update.
What really sets me off is this: somewhere along the way, we forgot that life works better when simple things stay simple. Create a password, check out with your groceries, speak with a real person, open a package, send a quick message, and toast your bread. None of these should feel like climbing Everest.
But here we are: frustrated, overcomplicated, and wasting time on nonsense that could’ve been avoided if people just stopped trying to reinvent the wheel every five minutes.
John Berkovich Talks 