This week, I discovered that I am an old dog.

I do not like to or want to learn new tricks.

Within the past month, both my personal computer and my iPhone needed to be replaced.

It quickly became a case of too much change, too soon, and I find myself ready to pitch both of them into a lake and go back to living off the grid.

In the past, I usually just migrated to the next version of my phone, or else I inherited a slightly used, hand-me-down from the WH, who gets his phones upgraded frequently through work.

By the time I got around to using it, I had mooched his enough to have a basic feel for it, or it was similar enough to the previous version that I didn’t notice the minor upgrades. This time, however, the untimely demise of my screen did not sync with his upgrade, and for the first time in a long time, I had to purchase a brand-new phone.

Since this was a semi-major investment, I decided that I would go with the latest and greatest version in the hopes that it would be relevant longer than 2 minutes. That also meant jumping three generations of phone. I’m both shocked and awed at how conditioned I can be.

Little things like a six-digit password, instead of a four digit one can really throw a wrench in the works. I can’t believe how many times I’ve typed the four digits and sat waiting for my phone to spring into action.

Even though I can clearly see the missing two digits, it’s just not getting through to my brain that I need to hit two more numbers.

The helpful sales associate did manage to work some magic and get all of my important data like contact information and Candy Crush levels to transfer over, but all of my apps still needed me to log into them.

That meant remembering the passwords to all of them. I didn’t. That meant sending a plethora of password reset emails to my email. Which wouldn’t open on my phone. Luckily, I got to my trusty old laptop and was able to reset everything, and for the most part, I am back in business.

When I can remember to finish unlocking my phone.

Apparently, the laptop got some funny ideas from the phone upgrade, and decided that it needed to be replaced as well.

My laptop is much more of an extension of me than my phone is. It usually goes everywhere with me, and it shows. It’s banged up, scratched up, dented and the CD drive doesn’t always close properly. Despite having stains on the screen from an unfortunate run-in with a kid’s glass of lemonade, it worked like a charm, although it had been having recent bouts of crankiness. Sadly, though, it was rapidly becoming incompatible with current software packages, so I decided to bite the bullet and upgrade.

I went the same route of getting the most technologically advanced computer that I could handle. BIG MISTAKE.

First thing I did was get a touch screen. Oye! Bad move. I never realized how much I actually use my finger to follow along when reading on the screen. I’ve deleted browsing sessions and who knows what else in a flash when I mistakenly went to point something out on my screen.

I also missed the fine print that explained that due to the ultra-slimness of the new laptop, all old accessories would just be way too big to use anymore. As a result, I didn’t order all the new accessories I would need. Luckily it came with a power cord, but only one power cord. I have about 10 power cords strategically stationed everywhere I used my old PC and now none of them fit.

While the technician was helping me install all my new programs, he cast a wary eye on my old computer. “Are you sure you don’t want to purchase some insurance on this?” he asked me.

No, I assured him I did not. I had gotten along just fine without it on the old one. I’m pretty sure I actually saw him bite his tongue.

Again, my creature of habit ways have plagued me. I’ve just gotten used to the way things looked and where things “lived” on my old computer. Changing things like task bars and start menus really messes with my head.

I accidentally open the wrong apps all the time because I instinctively move my cursor to where they used to live.

My new computer has all kinds of bells and whistles, like cameras and microphones. For the first time ever, I am tempted to put the piece of tape over the camera, because I may have accidentally turned it on at some point. Whoever is watching on the other side is certainly getting a vocabulary lesson.

Of course, if I really want to know how to best use my new devices, I really need only ask the kids to show me. Even if they’ve never used anything like it before, their malleable little brains have no preconceived notions of where or how things should be and they’re quick to adapt.

I hate giving the kids the idea that they’re more technologically advanced than I am, because they will quickly hone in on that weakness and capitalize on it, but at this point, it’s either that or roll over and play dead.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.