When I was very small, I loved to answer the phone. It was so exciting to have a voice suddenly emanate from that bit of plastic on the wall. A ringing telephone is so full of promise; its cheery bell is the voice of someone saying, “Hello! I am thinking of you! I would like to talk to you, please!”
Now though, after years in various retail and secretarial capacities, that blinking phone on my left is like an obnoxious child, clinging to my legs and whining for attention. Ugh! Go away, awful telephone, I’m not in the mood for this right now!
It’s just that I’m getting sick, see, and my professional telephone voice is harder to summon up when my throat is sore and my eyes must fight to stay open. Whine whinge etc.
Oh sweet technology! If I had to work like these ladies did, with no internet and constant supervision, I would have gone out of my mind by now.
At least I can take comfort in the fact that yesterday’s wonderful weather has become today’s dismal grey skies. I’m not missing much by staying inside, that’s for sure.
