Dear Diary …
I love texting. For me, it might be the single most important advancement in my life when it comes to communicating with other people. And the reason is simple … I hate talking on the phone. Always have. There’s really never been a time where I was one of those people that just wanted to just be curled up with a phone jammed to my ear, talking for hours on end with friends, family, or whatever.
Heck … I didn’t even want to be having those boring lovey-dovey calls with people you were dating. Remember that whole … “You hang up first. No you hang up first. No YOU hang up?”
Yeah … here’s how it went with me …
“You hang up first.”
Alright … Cool … bye.
That’s why I love texting. I can still communicate with people, it’s done way more efficiently, and on your own schedule. I don’t care if it takes all day to have the conversation, I get to do it on my time, plus when you add up the actual time it took to have the thing, it was roughly 17 seconds of my life.
And that’s way better than some marathon phone call that also leaves you totally convinced that your cellphone has managed to zap a four pound tumor into your skull after holding it up to your head for an hour.
So here’s the problem I have … people who want to talk. My Mom LOVES to talk on the phone, to pretty much anyone and everyone that’s available in her life. Late night chit-chats with friends, long work calls, heck she’ll even have a ten minute conversation with my 5 year old son and he brings absolutely nothing to the conversation.
So yesterday she calls me, and I was busy … um … doing something? I dunno. I didn’t answer the call cuz I didn’t wanna talk. That’s the other beauty of texting … you get to know the person’s intentions right away, because they have to state them in writing. Phone calls are a total bamboozle. You have no idea if the person just wants to say hi or wants you to help them move a couch. And since I’m not a fan of ambush, I prefer the written contract version of this.
So she calls … leaves her message … and a few minutes later (gotta prove I was … like … busy and stuff) … I respond and answer her question.
And what do you think immediately happens? My phone rings.
Confound it!!! You have trapped me!!!!
Now I have to answer because I have proven myself to be alive.
You are ruining the sanctity of the texting agreement … No call backsies!!!!
So I answer, and then proceed to have a 30 minute conversation about pretty much nothing. All of which could’ve been accomplished in about 9 seconds on text. Actually, it HAD been accomplished because I had already answered the question.
Ugh. I’m actually holding on to hope that someday they invent a cellphone that does everything our current phones do, but doesn’t actually have the ability to use it as a phone. The “phoneless phone” … bring it on!
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.