On breaking up with 50-year-old technology.
It’s official. I no longer use voicemail. I called my carrier and asked them to shut off the feature as I am obviously not qualified to do so myself.
No longer will I be associated with antiquated technology from the 1970s.
I won’t hear the annoying notifications or see the little heart attack inducing app icon badge on my phone anymore. No longer will my blood pressure rise at the sight of another pointless voice message.
I won’t have to dial my voicemail and wait for it to answer, and no longer will I have to remember the password or press #1 to listen to my messages, or press #7 to delete them, and so on.
And I won’t have to listen to any more telemarketers put the fear of Jesus in me by informing me about the costliness of auto repair, my car’s extended warranty, or lack thereof.
I’m not sure what family and friends are going to do. How will they leave me messages when I don’t answer their calls? Perhaps they could text, but voice infers much more urgency. Or I suppose they could email me. My preferred method of communication.
To be honest, I don’t care. I am sure they can figure it out. I cannot believe an emergency will go wasted.
And to the telemarketers: I’m sorry for my uncooperative nature. I can’t fathom continuing to allow you to bombard my phone with your verbal spam. It’s been a long and abusive relationship between us but I think it is best we move on. There are plenty of other ways to contact me of course. But I can’t continue down this toxic path. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m kidding. A large part of it is you.
So that is it. I’ll be living the high life and saving precious time by not having the life-sucking inconvenience of going through the exhaustive process of checking and deleting voicemail.
If you ring me and if I am in the mood to speak, I may answer your call.
If not, be rest assured that I won’t be calling you back to find out what you want.
Send me a text, or email, or errand boy, or pigeon, or message in a bottle if it’s of the utmost urgency. And for god’s sake, don’t message me on social media. I’ll file a restraining order.
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Exploring Timeless Ideas, Life Design, and Simplicity at BarryFralick.com