eclecticism

December 12th, 2003 |

One of my cost-cutting measures of late has been using my phone line as something almost unheard of in this modern day and age — as a phone. Nothing else. No call waiting, no caller ID, no voice mail, no fancy goodies of any sort. Just a phone. If someone calls when I’m home, I pick it up and answer it. If they call when I’m out, then they’ll just have to call back later. To my mind, it works well.

When I lost my job and had to go back into job hunting, though, I knew that that wouldn’t be the best approach, so I went ahead and signed back up for voice mail. It worked fine while I was job searching. I’d get home, pick up the phone to see if it beeped at me to tell me I had messages, and I’d call back the few that weren’t telemarketers anxious to make a sale.

Once I became gainfully employed, though…well, voice mail just isn’t for me. Due to the combination of an evening schedule that has me operating at hours quite different from a lot of people I know, a very small group of friends local to me in Seattle that I’d want to call anyway, and my own general semi-hermit lifestyle, I almost never pick up the phone to make a call. One of the few times I’ll call out is when I’m in a mood to order pizza, and then I’m dialing almost as soon as the phone leaves the cradle, and long before the handset reaches my ear. Hence, I never know if I have messages or not.

So this morning I actually checked my messages. There were two on there — one a telemarketer that had tried to get ahold of me Dec. 4th, and one from Rick, who wanted me to call him as soon as I got the message so we could clubbing that Friday night. Friday, Dec. 5th, that is. Well, he wanted me to call him as soon as I got the message, so I did (and just got his voicemail), but I think the verdict is pretty clear.

I’m a dork.