don't call me, i'll call you...
I'd hate to be my friend.
I'm useless at it. I don't have a phone, because that's all I do all day long as an occupation. I hate speaking to bloody strangers, but I dislike even more, being forced to be companionable enough to participate in hour-long chats from good friends.
Don't get me wrong. I love a good conversation over a nice pale ale, or a quick gossip session on a smoke break at work. I'm all into loud, adamant discussions about the state of the world, and comparing notes about the beautiful people.
I'm not anti-social, just anti-phone.
I know that Santa's bringing me a cellphone for Christmas this year. My family is absolutely disgusted that I refuse to buy one on my own. They can't force me to get a landline, but they can definitely stick a Samsung in the stocking.
Yes, I agree that it is safer to have in case of emergency, but with a sister living next door, I've avoided it so far.
But when I mentioned to several people that I was getting one, after being asked for the billionth time for a forwarding number, there were sighs of relief. I guess my method of just bumping into people when I want to see them isn't as common a practice as some are used to. Admittedly, I have missed some really good parties and other events, and it would help to have one.
I do regret being more accessible, but I am definitely one of those people that knows there's an OFF button.
Thank goodness for voicemail.