The Ringing

This may not require a stretch of the imagination but I am a millennial. And while I actively resist broad generalizations of my peers and what we have/have not done to America, there is one characteristic that fits me.

I really can't stand to use the phone. This blog may not be the best example, but I do express my self better in writing and appreciate that I have the opportunity to do this so often. I rather email the bank and wait two business days to get a response than fuss with my phone. My wife and I stay in touch throughout the day, but it is exclusive on text and gchat. I still have a few friends that prefer to chat over the phone and that is all well and good, but it is rare and special. That makes it fun!

Because of all this, the sound of my phone ringing now brings up only negative emotions. As a child, if the phone rang, I thought "Oh, the phone. Ok." Now, as a grown up millennial, I hear the phone ringing and I am "FUUUUCCCKKKKK! The phone!" Why? Well, because of text messages and email and social media and instant messaging I know get most of my info via the written word. When the phone rings, it can only be one thing out of a telecommunicative rogue's gallery. So, when my phone rings it is either...

A) My mother (Or someone else from my family, but 99% it's my mother)

Great! Here goes thirty minutes hearing about those that have died, those that are dying, and those surely to die next!

B) ADT

SHIT! Someone is breaking into my house...AGAIN! Or, its the cats. Do I tell them to call the cops or not? I mean it is probably the cats, right?

C) A Telemarketer

No, thank you!

D) Bad News

Your lab results came back in and they are positive! Why haven't you paid us? Did you know that your house is on fire? This person died. Etc, etc.

The worst is getting my wife's name popping up on the caller ID. This immediately makes me pickup and say "WHAT'S WRONG? WHAT'S WRONG? WHAT'S WRONG!?!?!"

With all this said, I do pickup the phone quickly usually on the first ring. Or try to and end up knocking over half of the furniture in front of me. I mean, it could be a job calling for an interview. We can always dream.