Watch out!

Day 3 at germ HQ. Two colleagues who lingered a little too long at the start-of-term lurgy cocktail bar are martyring themselves to the cause (education), meaning that the rest of us are, about as subtly as a brick, keeping them at arm's length, dreading the knock-knock at the door of Mr Tickly Throat and Little Miss Blocked Sinuses. Aah, the joys of working in a community village college. 
Today my new watch arrived (see pic). Now I do already own a watch but it is packed away in the sierra of cardboard boxes currently occupying a local rental storage space, and I know that, if I were to find it, it needs a new battery - just like it has done for the year or so previous to it being packed away. So it was new watch versus hours of needle-in-a-haystack style searching through my life's possessions in a romantically lit (i.e. dark) storage unit only to (perhaps) find a watch that needed money spent on it. On balance I decided that I would be short-changing myself if I started the search so I sent away for this new blue one instead.
Why the sudden urge to join the ever diminishing watch-wearing infantry? First and foremost to avoid using my phone to check the time. I'm wearied, having spent frustrating amounts of time fishing around in bags for the freakin' thing. I've noticed that relatively few young people still wear good old-fashioned time pieces on their wrists but I'm getting back to basics and hoping that this move - technically backwards - will encourage me to spend less of the most valuable commodity we possess in the 'phone world time machine', sometimes missing out on the present in favour of the never-never. 
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when I sat down to do a bit of work, watch strapped to wrist, and heard the tick-tick-tick-tick. Unexpected and unwelcome, but maybe a good thing because surely now I'll be more conscious of time passing. Maybe.
On my cycle home from work I noticed a sign warning of an 'uneven surface' - basically cobbles - in which the letters of the word 'uneven' were purposefully placed in a rather uneven fashion - you know, one letter slightly up, the next slightly down (repeat twice). I wondered if a word exists to describe this but could only think of 'visual onomatopoeia', which I don't even think really covers it... More thought required.