Don't Call Me

Dear Mr. Technology,

You rock my world. Daily. I love knowing that I can pretend to understand a conversation 'round the watercooler, run back to my desk, Wikipedia the mystery reference and make an "informed" comment the next time I swing by. This is a fabulous convenience: I feel cool.

I also love, Mr. Techie, the way my iPhone gives me instantaneous answers about my bus's whereabouts (downtown, three minutes delayed) and reminders for family birthdays. I couldn't do without these luxuries now that I'm so painfully spoiled. You get me, Techie, you really do.

But Tech, there has been a price for all this luxury. Mostly, I have become That Girl Who Doesn't Get Back to People. It's been a long time coming. People usually expect me to delay in responding to emails, answering friend requests, replying to messages, commenting in return on a blog, texting back my weekend plans, and on and on. BUT WAIT A MINUTE. What is wrong with this picture? There are ten, TEN ways that people can reach me these days.

And ten is way too many. You have created a monster, Techno Man. Home phone, cell phone, text, Gmail, G-chat, Facebook: messages, walls and chat, work email, and work phone. How am I supposed to sustain that kind of communication? WHO HAS TIME FOR THAT? I know I'm not the only one. But I am just not interesting in juggle all of this anymore.

So, Mr. T, I am waving my white flag. You win. I admit defeat. I'm not the girl who can be counted on when it comes to answering the call of duty. If people want to reach me, they can come and knock on my frickin' door. The rat race of "reply all" is ending today. The reply time guilt is whooshing down the drain as we speak. I know you'll try and woo me back. I'll continue to suffer the silent judgment of the Quick Replyers, but you will know who has my heart: Mr. Doorbell.

Love,

Holly Elizabeth