I think I’m probably not your typical woman. For lots of reasons really, but one thing that seems to single me out from the feminine race, day after day, other than my increasing tendency to grow unwanted facial hair, is the fucking telephone. I wonder how many of you hate your phone, as much as I hate mine. I hate the landline phone with a passion, I hate the mobile ringing, I hate your phone ringing, I hate people talking into them in public, I hate stupid ringtones, I hate the Nokia original tune. You name it I hate it.
My daughter has just discovered talking to her mates, after spending whole days with them at school. I’ve watched her wander around the room with the other girl on speaker phone and they are describing what they’re doing at that precise moment for two fucking hours!!! I also get to pay the bill for the privilege.
Now I’m guessing you also hate the phone, when it’s that annoying sod on the line, the one who calls you bang on tea time to try to sell you crap you don’t want, or the arse that insists that you had a loan with ppi that you can claim back . No doubt you also hate the man with the accent you can’t understand. You know the one who is certain you didn’t claim compensation for an accident you definitely had that you definitely didn’t have!! These phone calls in my house are sorted quite quickly to be fair. I tell them I’m not interested and if they haven’t managed to comprehend that in the time i’ve spent saying it. I simply hang up,if they’re still talking,well I’m afraid that’s tough! I’m far to lazy to be arguing with a hard sell all evening, thank you! They don’t tend to call back. Well not that night at least.
No I hate the phone 99.9% of the time. I work mornings, as you who have been following the blog will be already aware of (other than the Wednesday late one). I finish around lunch time,so it’s a question of grabbing some provisions from work at ‘retail super giant’ and heading back for a whirlwind of cleaning, washing, bed changing, appointments and errand running. Basically everything us full-time mum’s with children have to do. But I squish it into the afternoons. Evening is my time. Not housework time,I have to stick to this or I would end up very depressed! This schedule enables me to have a part-time job too, so we all benefit. I also try to fit in a couple of gym sessions after work if I can and perhaps two catch up coffees with friends a week as well.
It doesn’t seem to matter what order I put these afternoon tasks in.It doesnt matter if I train first, Hoover first or eat first. The minute I get my arse settled on the sofa to eat my sandwich,that little bastard knows and he starts! I notice the minute I put my little one in the bath, it does it too. Ring, ring, bloody ring.
Around tea time it’s on fire. When’s it’s not the call centres. Its my husband. Unless he’s working from home,he rings me daily for lengthy chats. Once, maybe twice a day if something he finds interesting has happened. It doesn’t matter that he’s on the way home,he’ll see me in an hour or I’ve got winging children around my feet. It doesn’t matter I’m cooking the tea, that he will want to eat the minute he gets in or the fact we have guests sat on the sofa. He is still incredibly attached to this time talking on the phone. Talking all the way home from his meetings, on his hands free kit, regardless of the reception he is often getting at the other end. Well unless I tell him something that I find interesting and he doesn’t. He then receives an urgent call that he has to answer, right then.
That leads on to my most hated phone call of all,when the reception is bad!!! How can anyone still want to continue a conversation when you’re listening to ..Llo …you there,bu…li…ta…hello…there. Please hang up. In fact I hang up on these ones regardless of who it is. I then bang the phone in and out of the holder a few times, to release the pent-up frustration I experience on these calls.
Don’t get me wrong if it’s important or I havent seen you for months ring (if I don’t answer I’m caught up but do leave me an answer phone message) or even better text and arrange a visit. I don’t mind talking just not all day and not on that thing. I have so many pointless conversations when I need to be doing other things. Some days I barely seem to have time to wipe my arse and I’m having a conversation on the phone in the middle of sticky floors, dusty surfaces and piles of washing and the other person is asking questions but not listening to the answers. The worst of it is they rang me!!!
There it is. In all its simplicity.I hate the phone.