A giant leap forward
Well, I finally did it. I broke down and succumbed to the numerous wails and whining for me my own cellphone. Yes, America, that's right. You can now call me any hour of the day and not risk the wrath of she who doesn't-really-sleep-as-much-as-she-used-to-because-she's-cutting-back-on-estrogen-but-oh-gods-don't-call-her-anyway-in-the-middle-of-the-night-because-it-seriously-pisses-her-off.
Yeah. Run on sentance. Suck it.
Now, you may wonder what the big deal is and/or why it took me so long to get one. Well, unknown to most people I once owned one many years ago not too long after they came in a size slightly small than a small club. If I remember correctly, it was the first year I worked at the first hotel I worked in, not long after starting up playing on New Bremen (oh, gods how I miss that, but I really don't.) Most people who'd even only slightly had heard of me had the number and most people knew they could call at almost anytime and it was perfectly fine because the only time I'd try to hurry you off the phone would be if I don't like you or I'm "busy."
I had the phone for about a year. Number of calls recieved: 4. All from a person I really didn't want to talk to and who, because she lived out of my calling area managed to turn my $20 monthly bill to $80. Because SHE WOULDN'T SHUT UP ABOUT HER LOSER LIFE AND HOW SHE WAS WAITING FOR A GUY WHO REALLY DIDN'T WANT HER ANYWAY BUT SHE THOUGHT HE DID. It was hard being polite to her. Really hard. So hard, I eventually just didn't answer it whenever she called (thank you, caller ID.)
So, since I had basically bought a glorified accessory that's primary function was to make me appear up to date, I just let it die a quiet death. I actually still have the phone. I figured no one else would want it, so there was no point in taking it back.
I'm kind of worried that that's going to happen again with this phone, and that I'm going to basically be carrying it around in my pocket for no other reason than to have it there. But, that's my paranoia playing with me.
My other small issue that's kept me from getting this thing any sooner was the fact that, in a way, I was kind of surrendering some of my freedom to the world. Now, anytime I want a few hours alone somewhere where no one can find me, all they have to do is call. And, I'm not so insensitive as to ignore a call just because I'm wanting to have a private pout or some thinking time. So there's that possibility that I could be sitting somewhere enjoying the world in the simple things like trees and the sky only to have the world intrude on me wanting something or another. Oh, I'm not talking about the people reading this. I'm more or less referring to the person who I'm sharing living space with.
She'll be able to call me. Anytime. Gods. Kill me.
Yeah. Run on sentance. Suck it.
Now, you may wonder what the big deal is and/or why it took me so long to get one. Well, unknown to most people I once owned one many years ago not too long after they came in a size slightly small than a small club. If I remember correctly, it was the first year I worked at the first hotel I worked in, not long after starting up playing on New Bremen (oh, gods how I miss that, but I really don't.) Most people who'd even only slightly had heard of me had the number and most people knew they could call at almost anytime and it was perfectly fine because the only time I'd try to hurry you off the phone would be if I don't like you or I'm "busy."
I had the phone for about a year. Number of calls recieved: 4. All from a person I really didn't want to talk to and who, because she lived out of my calling area managed to turn my $20 monthly bill to $80. Because SHE WOULDN'T SHUT UP ABOUT HER LOSER LIFE AND HOW SHE WAS WAITING FOR A GUY WHO REALLY DIDN'T WANT HER ANYWAY BUT SHE THOUGHT HE DID. It was hard being polite to her. Really hard. So hard, I eventually just didn't answer it whenever she called (thank you, caller ID.)
So, since I had basically bought a glorified accessory that's primary function was to make me appear up to date, I just let it die a quiet death. I actually still have the phone. I figured no one else would want it, so there was no point in taking it back.
I'm kind of worried that that's going to happen again with this phone, and that I'm going to basically be carrying it around in my pocket for no other reason than to have it there. But, that's my paranoia playing with me.
My other small issue that's kept me from getting this thing any sooner was the fact that, in a way, I was kind of surrendering some of my freedom to the world. Now, anytime I want a few hours alone somewhere where no one can find me, all they have to do is call. And, I'm not so insensitive as to ignore a call just because I'm wanting to have a private pout or some thinking time. So there's that possibility that I could be sitting somewhere enjoying the world in the simple things like trees and the sky only to have the world intrude on me wanting something or another. Oh, I'm not talking about the people reading this. I'm more or less referring to the person who I'm sharing living space with.
She'll be able to call me. Anytime. Gods. Kill me.
posted by Not Your TGM | 11:06 AM
3 Comments:
I wonder to who you could ever be reffering? and yeah I am telling you yet again the menopausal she beast to whom you are reffering is the reason god made oklahoma...... errrr wait maybe it was Caller ID.
I didn't ever call you on your cell phone? I find that hard to believe.
Anyway, I'll gladly call you this go-round if you at some point, you know, give me your number.
Now you have no excuse to not call me. *grin*
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