i hate phones. they are just little machines that represent everything i dread: interaction. communication. the possibility of conflict. self-disclosure. honesty.
in the past twenty-four hour span, i have been chastised for my phone etiquette five times. each time by a different individual. and not just loser assholes that i don't want to talk to. they're almost decent people that have things to say that i'm semi-interested in hearing. and more than one of them brought up the word "intervention."
i don't like talking on the phone. i'm not good at it. if i can't see your face, then you're just droning into my ear. i wanna look at you when you speak. really, i do. i like you all so much more when i'm looking at you. that's why sometimes when people speak to me, i say "hold on, i can't hear you, i don't have my glasses on." then i walk out of the room and hide under the nearest bed i can find.
to everyone whom i don't call or don't call back: it isn't personal. i ignore each and every phonecall equally. when my phone rings, if i don't see the conversation being under three minutes, i'm not interested. when i call someone, it's "hey whats up what are you doing want me to pick you up okay see you in a little bit." that's all i want. that's all i need. if the phone can take pictures and record video, all the better.
the thing i like most about my phone is that it matches my car.
my point is this, dear readers: my therapist and i will analyze the fuck out of my phone-phobia and before you know it, you'll be avoiding my phonecalls because i can't shut the hell up. just you wait.
