We all know the iPhone. I’m in a world surrounded by the thing. Everyone in the office has one (well, the males anyway), my husband has one, his mates have one, my next door neighbour has one, even some of my student and unemployed friends have one (probably at the sacrifice of food and heating through the winter months).

The iPhone is THE phone on the market. I know enough in my limited knowledge to understand there are other phones trying to do similar things, but that Apple has ingeniously marketed the iPhone to be pretty much the only contender.

I agree that it is incredibly clever, having email, messages, Facebook, applications, games, GPS, etc., etc. In fact, it impresses me in many ways, and there aren’t many things which impress me. I’m one of those people who don’t really care if I have a 30” or 42” TV, excellent surround sound or none at all, HD or standard. If it’s there, it’s there, and if it’s not, I don’t miss it.

However, the iPhone has thwarted my peaceful agreement with technology. And I’m not happy. Here I was enjoying little updates if they came along. I got my first laptop about five months ago, we don’t have Sky but we do have a digibox (dear God please help me to have got that right!) and I’m happy with my Nokia N80. My husband would disagree with me and would probably sell a finger for a large, flat-screen TV to go up on our lounge wall. “That will never happen”, I thought. And he knew it, because he went and found a TV which, when switched off, is a mirror. Clever man.

But the iPhone, in all its non-scratch, shiny black casing glory, was far too tempting for him. And now I have to live with the consequences it has uninvitedly brought into my life.

It’s bad enough that most men seem to use the iPhone like it’s a substitute for their manhood by whipping it out of their pockets like they’ve somehow “arrived”. But what really irks me, what grates me beyond belief, is my husband’s use of the thing.

The iPhone has become the other woman in my marriage. Before its grand arrival, I used to live with the occasional beeping updates of my husband’s text messages, and he lived with mine, and we were on mutual ground. But now, I’ve been sideswiped. Incessant beeps could be one of many things; a text message; an email; even a Facebook update. And for some reason, this then becomes the most important thing in life. Somehow, in a guy’s head, the world stops when those tones ring out from their pocket. No more can they finish their sentence, pour a cup of tea or even start the car. To their pockets they must go.

And why am I so bothered? Well, I’ve been made redundant of course. No longer am I the diary holder, happily organising our social life and giving my husband updates about people we love or birthdays coming up. Now, I’m being told who of our friends are having babies, have moved, or went on holiday.

It also takes up time. I can’t pull him away from checking footie scores, Facebook updates or generally getting lost in cyberspace. Ever get the sentence “I’m just checking something” but end up waiting ten minutes while it happens?

The worst is when I climb into bed, and instead of a cuddle to help warm up, he picks up the phone, plugs it in as if he’s switching it off for the night but then still has it in his hand when he turns over. A mumbled, “I’ve just got to do something”, floats through the air before I can reprimand him for his obsession. And so I lie, waiting for him to finish whatever it is he’s doing. Insulted, irritated, and left, ridiculously, feeling jealous (of the iPhone) and wanting furiously to throw it across the room.

In fact, my boss’s wife relinquished her battle with the thing when, after returning from seeing to their three-week-old baby, she found his iPhone on her pillow, completely taking her place in the marital bed.

However, all that said, I have to admit that when my other half’s not around, I secretly sneak a quick go. (I especially love hangman, quizzes and “The Most Addictive Game in the World Ever”, even though it is also one of the most annoying games ever.) I like it when he can take pictures while we’re out, check things like train times when we’re away from the computer and listen to music in the car.

I do think the iPhone is clever, it’s a good product, works well and offers a lot.

But I don’t like the stigma around it, the way owners use it as a status symbol or how “apps” has suddenly become the latest buzzword.

And I truly hate the fact that it invades my life when I don’t want it to.