Fresh Hell: the tyranny of the telephone

God I hate the phone. I just hate it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those technophobes who thinks mobiles should be banned and we should all go live in huts and communicate by smoke signal. I'm not one of those. But, whilst acknowledging its necessity and the miracle of modern technology allowing us to communicate any time any place, I still hate it.

It's the ringing, you see. The constant, infernal ringing. The peal of the ringing, jangling your nerves. It's the interruption, you see, it throws me off my course and distracts me from whatever other worthwhile pursuits I may or may not have been pursuing. How often can you say, hand on heart, that the telephone call is a welcome intrusion? Those are rare and precious moments indeed. More often than not, it will be bad news. It's the uncertainty, too; you just don't know who it will be on the other end of the line, and you've no control over what potentially devastating news they have to tell you.

I have come to even fear the ringing of the phone a little. I know it is ridiculous, but I can't help myself. I have this strange pavlovian respose to any kind of bell now - door bell, alarm clock bell, etc - it is all the same in my mind - but the phone alone has the most potential for catastrophe.

A call before 8am? It's hardly going to be a social call. Calls throughout the day whilst you are trying to work - they either distract you from your time-sensitive projects, or create more work. A call late in the evening? Same as getting a call before 8am. It's all the same recipe for stress.

So get caller display, I hear you say. Huh. Caller display - you would think this nifty little invention would be a boon for someone like me - but - what if the person calling is ex-directory...?

Is anything more ominous than the mysterious "number witheld" appearing on your mobile? Is it the bank? The credit card company? The personnel department? Or again, equally bad, a number you just don't know - who can it be? Yeah, I know, I could send 'em to voicemail, but then there's the nerve-wracking moment when you have to listen to the message - what will it entail?? Or, what if they don't leave a message and you just have to torture yourself all day, wondering what on earth they were calling you for.

Which also brings us to the secondary evils of the answer machine or voicemail. I don't have a problem with it myself - I can happily leave messages for others. BUT I always say why I am calling. I can't stand it when the message is along these lines: 'Hi, it's so-and-so, can you call when you get this message? thanks". ABOUT WHAT? Why can't they say why they are calling? If they know me at all, then they'd know I will automatically assume BAD news - then I don't really want to call back. Sheesh.

And whilst we're on this thorny issue of unwanted calls, let's devote a little time to the evils of the telesales call. It's 8pm. You're relaxing on the sofa, sipping a glass of wine, closely following the personal lives of the principal surgeons on Holby City, and the phone goes. You can't ignore it - it might be important. You mute the television, pick up the phone:
You: Hello?
Caller: Hello, may i speak with Miss (then they pronounce your surname incorrectly)
You: Who is it?
Caller:My name is blah-blah and I'm calling from the Blah-Blah credit card company to interrupt your evening and try to sell you some insurance you don't need, and yes the line is very bad and you can't quite make out what I am saying because I am in fact, calling from an out-sourced call centre based in India, etc., etc.

Of course, it doesn't go quite like that. I'm wise to the telesales call these days. I stop them at the 'My name is' part. I know it isn't their fault. They just work for the evil corporation. But I'm supposed to be ex-directory for Pete's sake! There's no escape.

So, why don't I just ignore the damn thing? Would that I could. But part of the whole pavlovian nightmare attachment to this unholy device is that I simply don't have the nerve to ignore a ringing phone. I simply have to know who is on the other end of the line. I hate the phone but I'm a fool for the phone. It's less of a love-hate relationship, more of a hate-hate, but what can you do, eh?

Junk food and your mood

Working from home - a blessing and a curse really.

I finished reading the manuscript I should have read at least a couple of weeks ago, and kind of wish I had, as it was very good. I really enjoyed it and would like to make an offer to publish, but it kind of depends on whether it is really suited to our list according to others. And if it is still available. I look over to my wine glass. I am out of alcohol. Well, not strictly so as I do have a bottle of Amaretto which is over two thirds full, so there is no need to panic, and even more importantly, no need to put trousers on, or shoes for that matter and walk to Tescos to replenish said alcohol supplies.

I haven’t really eaten properly today, for all my good intentions. It all started out really well – scrambled eggs on toast for brekkie, followed by fresh strawberries and yoghurt. For lunch I really went to town on my health kick and prepared a huge tuna salad with all the trimmings; olives, balsamic, cos lettuce, you name it, vine tomatoes, fresh pepper, red onion, etc.
...Found myself craving chocolate approx 35 mins later. I did go to Tescos and buy some chocolate, but also purchased some Japanese rice crackers, and some of those new oriental style crackers and, yes, it couldn’t be helped at this point, some of those babybel cheese things that come in the string bag – I had to have them. So - after my supremely healthy start, I opted to finish the day by consuming an entire box of crackers, followed by a family size bag of oriental crisp crackers thingies, washed down with a whole bottle of rose wine and topped off with two cheese things. Didn’t fancy the chocolate after all. Crazy or what? Or what indeed.

Never can say...

My parents recently moved abroad, and I went to visit them for a holiday and see how they were settling in. It was a good visit, but as I was leaving both my mother and myself knew that she wasn't really feeling happy to be there and was uncertain about her future. I wanted to leave, but also wanted to stay and help, and just felt so conflicted. When people we love are in trouble, what can you do? I hate the feeling of helplessness you get - all you can do is be there, but all you really want to do is wave a magic wand and make it all better.


...As we hugged goodbye, I could feel myself losing control and my chest started to shudder with the effort to keep breathing steadily and hold back the sob building behind it. She held me tightly and I could feel she was shaking too, and that just about did it. The tears started, and we had to pull away quickly, trying to take deep breaths so we could manage to speak before the dam burst. The cab door was open and my suitcase already in the boot; I held onto the door and tried to sound bright and cheery,
‘Okay,’ I said, ‘Bye darling, I love you, I’ll call you when I get in,’
‘Bye-bye my darling, love you, give me a ring when you get back in, ok, bye-bye,’
I forced myself into the car and shut the door. Luckily there was hardly any traffic and the driver was able to pull quickly away from the curb. We kept waving at each other until we were out of sight. I couldn’t stop crying in the taxi, and was grateful the driver didn’t try to talk to me. He had the radio on, and I was desperately trying to compose myself, but every time I calmed myself down, the emotions seemed to rise up like a wave and I could feel my throat tightening and my breathing become shaky and erratic.
The trip to the airport was not a long one and I stared out of the window, trying to focus on the countryside zipping by. It was distracting; noticing how much it reminded me of Italy, and how the journey to the airport always feels so familiar, always in a quiet taxi, at times of the day when there is no other traffic on the roads. I eventually managed to get my breathing under control and my heart rate slowed down.

I focused on the tasks at hand, such as paying the driver and getting a trolley for my suitcase, and the little problems I always needlessly obsess over when I am travelling: if my suitcase is too heavy/the rare event that my ticket would somehow turn out to be invalid/setting off the metal detector alarm and so on.

I know the last one is not a big deal, but on one occasion, I was being rushed through the security section for a flight home from Mexico. The alarm went off, and a thoroughly stressful episode followed. There was no air-conditioning, so it was sweltering, and I was late for my flight; I took all the change out of my pockets and tried again, but it went off again, so then I had to take off all my jewellery, which was a trial as I was panicking and sweating and couldn’t get the catches open on my many bracelets and necklace. It still went off again and I just felt like screaming. The security guards just waved me through in the end, but then I had to re-attach all the jewellery and so on. Not particularly harrowing, but then again, not an experience I would like to repeat.

Of course, everything was fine and I got checked in and went through to the departure lounge. I ended up dozing a little on plane, which is quite rare for me, but then I hardly got any sleep last night. I kept waking with a start and couldn’t be sure I hadn’t actually cried out, but none of the other passengers were looking at me, so I just settled back down, as comfortably as you can on a standard class seat, and closed my eyes again.

I always request a window seat when travelling by air, as nothing can compare to the unique perspective and astonishing beauty of looking at the sky and seeing the earth from this perspective. When I look at that blanket of clouds, all amazingly brilliant and white and pure and light, and I can feel myself breathe easier, relax, drink it in.

first ever

First ever post - just getting set up here and am a total novice at all this stuff, so bear with me, as we used to say when I worked in a call centre. Which was thoroughly hellish now I come to think about it - it was an IT helpdesk, which I think must be among the worst, but at least I wasn't cold-calling people.

Not a very good effort for a first post, but I'm in a rush and I'll come back later and make it better, promise.