I have thirty-four unheard voicemails. I honestly just want to delete them all and then completely disable my voicemail.
I know, I know, it's horrible. It's unprofessional. It's annoying to the two friends I have left who don't like texting.
You probably saw this tweet floating around a few months ago:
Yes. Yes. Yes.
You see, I do not like the phone. Oh, it is a wonderful invention, and I am rarely without mine. But I would much rather people knock on my door unexpectedly than call me unexpectedly. Also, it's impossible for me to be on the phone while on baby duty, and with a kiddo who rarely naps, what am I to do? The phone is pointless. My ringer is never on. I can text you when I'm rocking the boy to sleep, but call you? Sigh.
I don't like making calls, though I will happily meet you at the coffee shop. I can't believe I used to have a job that involved cold calling potential interview subjects (back in my CBS days). I do remember the absolute fear that would envelop me every time I had to pick up the receiver. Somehow I got over it back then, probably creating my own sort of cognitive behavioral therapy, wherein I gave myself a pep talk every time and tried to convince myself that, much like the snake, the callers were much more afraid of me than I was of them.
That just doesn't work anymore, and I pretty much want to throw my phone into the sea, complete with all those imaginary post-its.
Before the Wee Boy was born, I was better about the phone. The Phone Fear got me good after he was born, however, and it's pretty much the biggest remaining symptom of my PPD. I really need to do something about, as I know I've angered people and probably lost some gigs because of the fear.
Anyway, I am trying to address this, but it's much more daunting than the, um, 364 unread emails. I think it's probably easier to just delete them all and really, really, really try to be better about future voicemails.
Ugh. Boo to Brigid!
I know, I know, it's horrible. It's unprofessional. It's annoying to the two friends I have left who don't like texting.
You probably saw this tweet floating around a few months ago:
You see, I do not like the phone. Oh, it is a wonderful invention, and I am rarely without mine. But I would much rather people knock on my door unexpectedly than call me unexpectedly. Also, it's impossible for me to be on the phone while on baby duty, and with a kiddo who rarely naps, what am I to do? The phone is pointless. My ringer is never on. I can text you when I'm rocking the boy to sleep, but call you? Sigh.
I don't like making calls, though I will happily meet you at the coffee shop. I can't believe I used to have a job that involved cold calling potential interview subjects (back in my CBS days). I do remember the absolute fear that would envelop me every time I had to pick up the receiver. Somehow I got over it back then, probably creating my own sort of cognitive behavioral therapy, wherein I gave myself a pep talk every time and tried to convince myself that, much like the snake, the callers were much more afraid of me than I was of them.
That just doesn't work anymore, and I pretty much want to throw my phone into the sea, complete with all those imaginary post-its.
Before the Wee Boy was born, I was better about the phone. The Phone Fear got me good after he was born, however, and it's pretty much the biggest remaining symptom of my PPD. I really need to do something about, as I know I've angered people and probably lost some gigs because of the fear.
Anyway, I am trying to address this, but it's much more daunting than the, um, 364 unread emails. I think it's probably easier to just delete them all and really, really, really try to be better about future voicemails.
Ugh. Boo to Brigid!
4 comments
I cant possibly relate to this any more.seriously. and I totally piss people off with it.
ReplyDeletewhen my kids are awake and im running around being a mom, every time my phone rings this little whisper of dread snakes its way through me. "O god no...theyre going to make me be sociable right now."
And actually it when my kids are asleep too, because its usually the first time im getting some peace. And inevitably, the ones to call when I have some quiet time to myself are the ones who, if I were to tell them "im talking to you from the panic room in my basement, on account of the homicidal maniac that just climbed in my kitchen window and im pretty sure I just heard the dinstinctive rev of a chainsaw coming my way" they would still make me listen to how omygod yesterday they came THIS CLOSE to tripping over a branch and it was just so ALARMING....
Aaaaahhhh, your last paragraph ... yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
DeleteTwo mystery numbers just called within five minutes of me putting my kid down for a nap. The pressure, the pressure!!!
Its like they KNOW.. isnt it??
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