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.