Wednesday, March 2, 2011

A Really Weird Lindsayism.

Okay, I have to say this here because it has to be said:

It's not you.  It really isn't.  I just genuinely hate the phone.

Let me tell you how much I hate the phone.

  • I'm really cheap when it comes to my cell phone.  Also, voicemail and call display come together, and voicemail is a waste of money because anybody can just text you a message, or since you have call display anyway, you can see who's called, and because most voicemails are just like "hey, it's me, call me back".  I hate that.  Stop leaving those voicemails.  Anyway, I'm cheap with my cell phone and have no use for voicemail, so I don't have call display.  And when my phone rings I feel like I'm taking a real gamble when I answer it.  So I never do.  And nobody can leave a voicemail.  
  • Jamie is the only person who ever calls me, because she is the only one who can't get it through her head (or just plain doesn't give a shit) that I really don't like talking on the phone.  We have an understanding: I will answer once in a while and if I don't answer, she doesn't take it personally.  Good friend.
  • I once had a job where I had to answer the phone all day long.  (I got fired from this job, incidentally).  Every time it rang I had a tiny panic attack.  Every single time.  I even cried over it.  I don't know what's wrong with me.  Lots.  Obviously.
  • In fact, I get such terrible anxiety when the phone rings at the bar I work at currently, that everybody that comes to the bar is aware of this neurotic tick and so I get a ton of prank calls at the bar.  And I think those prank calls are going to give me a stroke.
  • Technology has allowed me to rely 99% on text messages and IM's.  Or the good old fashioned e-mail.  I'm comfortable with writing because I am a writer.  A person who writes.  I've never been much of a talker.  Well, unless you get me drunk, in which case I can have a conversation with just about anybody.  Except pretty girls.  I've always had trouble talking to pretty girls.  I don't even know.
In conclusion, just accept that this is another one of those things that you'll never understand about me.  Accept me for all of my shortcomings and only call me on the phone if it is absolutely necessary.

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