I hate phones. Back in the old Soviet Union, I was one of the lucky few that didn't have a phone. Of course I didn't feel so lucky then, because it severely impaired my social life, but now I think that was not such a bad situation.
All the bad news always comes to you by phone. Never a good news. A baby announcement or a wedding invitation will come in the mail. A birthday invitation will be delivered by Evite. A friend will tell you face to face about his job promotion. But phone calls are meant to bring bad news.
And they do. A phone call several days ago brought me the news that a dear friend's mother passed away. I knew this lady well. A young look, a warm hug, a soft voice, a cheerful smile do not go with the word "death", so much so that trying to put them together sounds almost grotesque.
But this is a leap year - what do I expect? I am looking at my phone biting my lip and waiting superstitiously for the bad news to arrive whenever the phone rings, and hoping that if I only don't answer the call the bad things will never happen.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
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1 comment:
Funny you wrote about this, as I have been dreading the ring of my cell for the past few months. You are right about the unpleasant feel that you get from it. For me it started with beeing on call a lot for my former practice. I resented getting calls from complete stranges (usually not even my patients!) who needed to be evaluated over the phone at odd hours of the day. I think I just detest being disturbed when I am busy with my life or my thoughts. I must say, that men, however, don't seem to have that problem. I don't think our husbands have this issue at all. Why is that?
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