Tuesday, July 14, 2009

At the Beep

It’s a sign of the times, I suppose.

An inevitable symptom of modern technology….

But still. It’s getting a little out of hand.

This is a step-by-step actual recount of my efforts this morning to check my messages. Now, I realize that as a freelancer, I may have a few extra steps than most…but this is ridiculous:

  • Check the home answering machine.
    Two messages. One from co-worker, reminding me that it is Monday and to call her back. Second message is from same co-worker, reminding me that it is Tuesday and imploring me to return this call, or risk having a dozen pizzas anonymously delivered to my home.


  • Before I can call back annoying,irritating,type a co-worker, I need to check my voicemail at work.
    Two messages. First one is fine, second one she garbles her phone number, so I have to wait through all the choices till I can press the option for “message information” to get the correct number.
  • Now I notice that there’s a little blinking envelope on my home phone, which means I’ve got voice messages that rolled over to the backup phone mail that my cable company provides. This comes in very handy when a) your line regularly goes down, or b) you have a 17-year-old-son who ties up your phone virtually every night and refuses to click over when call-waiting beeps, regardless of the fact that you’ve threatened to intercept one of said calls with “Honey, do you want Mummy to put an extra dryer sheet in with your blue blankie to make it extra-‘specially soft like you like it?”
    Two messages here as well. First is from Dad, who’s forgotten the reason for the call, so there’s no hurry to return it. The second is from someone I’ve had trouble reaching, so I’m interested in knowing when this call came in. However, Comcast’s voicemail will not allow you to interrupt your voice messages, so you must patiently wait till the very end to listen for the options (which have recently changed) to press the corresponding number for envelope information…which will, in fact, NOT tell you the time and date that someone called. F*&%-ing Comcast.
  • I then power up my cell, where I have one voice message. Actually, it’s more of a breathing, changing-the-radio-station message, as I believe the caller’s phone must’ve purse/pocket-dialed me. Unfortunately, it cut off before I got to hear any sing-a-longs, which would’ve been great ammunition for future blackmailing purposes.
    I also had one text message, which was from my sister and basically said: “Whts n/o wine w/cgull?”
    To which I skillfully replied: “?” Which everyone knows is code for “WTF?”
    (She wanted the name of the red wine I’d brought to her house that I believe had a flying goose on the label, but I could be wrong.)
  • I then went on to check my messages on email and twitter. I won’t bore you with the details….I think you’ve suffered enough.

I completely forgot to check Facebook. Again.

And there you go.

Eli said...

"Technology's our friend...technology's our friend..." That's my mantra.

susan F said...

I know! Don't you feel like a slave to this stuff?

kathryn said...

At the same time we're cursing it, we know we can't live without it.

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