Tag Archives: mundane monday

pop phone home ©alexandrawroteIf at one in the morning you call your own phone number to check your voicemail, it’s a really good idea to make sure you dial carefully. Because that series of numbers must remain in a specific order. Area code, too. After the fifth ring and no voicemail pickup, you might realize your mistake and consider blocking that number. I totally would did.

Except I could not remember the last time I blocked a number, it may have been a decade ago, and after trying to figure this out I learned that digital phone service is annoying and that technology sometimes complicates things that it was supposed to simplify.

I mean, if it weren’t for caller ID, no one would know who that idiot was who was calling at one in the morning. (Have you ever thought about giving up caller ID? Sometimes the idea of returning to a time when we simply picked up the phone on the initial ring seems nice. But who picks up on the first ring? It has become a reflex that the phone is not looked at until the second ring when the window appears telling us who is calling. And when we answer, knowing who is on the other end before saying hello – it’s like a small glimpse into what life must be like for the Long Island Medium.)

And yet, at a quarter after one in the morning, I am not in possession of any psychic powers. Andthat caller block thing isn’t working. Customer service seems the only option because at that late hour actually blocking the number is less important than figuring out why the system won’t let me. Why is it that things that bother you at one in the morning do not bother you at one in the afternoon? What is that about?

The More You Know: If customer service by phone is bad, Live Chat customer service is a strange form of torture where bad service is not only tedious and frustrating but stares back at you in 12-point font. Taunting me as I watch the blinking sign that says “The Live Chat representative is typing…”

I am not sure if it is the distance between Los Angeles and the call center somewhere across the globe, but while the blinking sign tells me they’re typing, enough time passes to write a short essay.

I’m not a patient person.

When the Live Chat employee confides that he really has no idea what to do since the software is created by someone else and they don’t know how it works, he tells me to try blocking the call in the morning because sometimes the system “just has problems.” I wonder how to reply when he then types  “I’m so happy to have been able to help you with your issue. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” Resist the urge to type “Not only haven’t you helped me, but one in the morning is really more tonight than today, don’t you think?” Or at least delete it and don’t send it.

After the chat window closed, I try once more to block the call. Because I was annoyed and tired. And it worked. I have no idea why, but it did. The funny thing was I no longer cared if that stranger called. I doubted they ever would. I went to bed wondering if they/I/we could possibly make life more complicated, realizing that’s precisely one of the biggest problems of the 21st century: this idea that we’re being more efficient when, in fact, we aren’t.

Sometimes simply turning something off and then turning it on again is the way to get things done. Sometimes we should turn it off and simply walk away.

And in the morning, when they the emailed transcript of the Live Chat they said they were sending didn’t arrive, I smiled. I’m not a psychic but I kind of expected that. Efficient? No. Consistent? Absolutely.


DO-WHAT-YOU-CAN-alexandraw-wrote Teddy Roosevelt’s words are gracing my screens and close to my heart this week. As I consider where I’m going with my work and life, I’m trying to look at the here and now rather than wonder what will happen next week, next month, a year from now. Always easier said than done.

Life is iffy and incredible, insane and ingenious.

For years, I’ve mixed other creative work with the unpredictability of a writing career. In the last year or so, I began to long for the days when writing was my sole profession. When writing and editing were what I did when I grew up.

Every time I think that maybe I should have gone to law school, something more secure, I realize that I feel pretty safe right where I am. Even when I’m nervous and juggling and not quite where I’d like to be. I do what I love (though unemployment and a retirement benefits would be nice).

Some days I look around, and it seems like everyone else has it more together. Other days it looks like the inmates are running the asylum. We make judgments like that all the time. It can lead to what my friend Heidi calls “judgment fatigue.” Sometimes we’re right, sometimes we’re wrong. Most times we have no clue what we’re talking about. So much wasted energy. (Related, I highly recommend the book Thinking, Fast and Slow.)

Over at The Conscious Perspective, Heidi has declared this Non-Judgement Week. Seven days enjoying the peace that comes along with viewing others with a kind heart.

And maybe, just maybe, that includes being kind to ourselves, too.

Non-Judgment Week
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