The phone

I hate to talk on the phone.  I hate to make phone calls.  I would rather get in my car and drive to where a person is and talk to them than call and try to communicate over the phone.  I procrastinate calling everyone.  I love texting and e-mail.  No pretense of I'm okay, how are you, life is so great bullshit.  Just words written where I can read them at my will and think of a response without the hesitation in a conversation that so worries me that I will babble about anything.  Now, I know that everyone I talk to on the phone is going to think badly of me.  This posting is not directed toward you and our phone conversations.  Relax.  I am genuine with you but I still hate calling you.  I'm sorry but I am trying to face some of the cold hard facts of my life that have produced the me I am today.  The phone thing is one of them. 

Calling the doctor's office is the worst phone call.  I only call when I know I need to make an appointment and need to see the doctor pretty quickly.  Trying to be truthful but still giving a sense of emergency so that I will actually get to see my doctor on a day that works for me is excruciatingly painful.  Almost as bad as whatever ailment is causing me to make the phone call.

Talking to my mother over the phone is also on the list of really don't want to do.  I love her but hate to talk on the phone with her.  I am calling usually to tell her that I am coming over or making plans to do something with her later in the week.  The small bits of trivial information that I have to maneuver are like land mines ready to make me be angry.  Yeah, there are a lot of anger issues with me and my family and when my Mom starts in on the family gossip I cannot help myself but respond with honest feelings about what ever may have happened.  I feel trapped.

Phone calls should be like they were in the olden days when people counted pennies and phones were a luxury.  Short and sweet like a text.  The information exchange with the smallest amount of social pleasantries.  Although I do get texts from one persona who seems to always find the least amount of characters to send stupid messages of fake support.  Or we could start writing letters that go through the United States Postal Service.  When you read old letters you think of the care the author took in composing them with just the right sentiment.

Just another thought for another day.