I’m a procrastinator. There, I admitted it. As long as I can get away with it, I will put off doing a distasteful task until the last possible moment. This goes for just about anything in any aspect of my life. Regardless of how awesomely beneficial the result can be for me, I still drag my feet like I’m walking with magnet shoes on over the world’s biggest refrigerator.
Of all the things I dislike doing (there are a ridiculous amount), I strongly dislike using the telephone. Strangely, I remember enjoying hours of chatting on the phone with the few pals I had as a socially awkward, introverted and nerdy teen. I’m not sure when or how that changed over the years. Now, using a telephone to me is as repulsive as finding a water bug in the tub. All I want to do is smash it to bits with the plunger, wearing rubber gloves of course because it’s icky.
During the course of a normal workday, avoiding the telephone becomes very difficult. At work, the awful contraption rings mercilessly all day long. Somebody has to answer it and I find myself praying constantly it won’t be me. My hand creeps ever so slowly towards it in the hopes some other fool is faster than me. Sometimes the gamble pays off, sometimes I lose miserably. Being caught ignoring a call by a supervisor is the worst, so I usually find a way to quickly pass any call I can to one of them as payback.
The other horror in having telephones around is having to MAKE calls. Oh the dread that rises like vomit from a drinking binge when there’s a problem with the toilet, the cable is on the fritz or (yikes) it was mom’s birthday yesterday. Whoa is me. Now I have to make nice and be polite. Maybe kiss a little tukhus. Or turn into Ms. Irate Customer and kvetch until whatever issue is derailing my Saturday night true crime viewing gets repaired (oops, I went all Jewish grandma there for a second).
What’s funny is how easily I took to texting, unlike others of my -ahem- generation. Bar none, it’s become my favorite form of communication. The quick pinging back and forth of a text conversation appeals to me in a way that I can’t understand. It’s satisfying. I like it. Although inferring emotion from texts proves to be difficult at best and even downright nonexistent, I’m willing to give that up for the ease of the text message. I can hold multiple conversations at once? Great! Carefully word responses and then review before sending? Sold! Amazing, the magic of modern technology.
So if you give up on the ringing because I take too long to answer, keep in mind my shortcomings. My terribly controlled procrastination tendencies coupled with my aversion to telephones is a deadly combination to social interactions. I am fully aware of my duty as social etiquette dictates to return your call promptly. Unfortunately, I can’t help myself. I’ll apologize via text.