this is what passes for a post after two weeks away
My phone woke me up–despite being on vibrate–at about twenty after 9 Sunday morning.
Great, I thought to myself, groggy and pissed that i didn’t get to wake up on my own, who the fuck is calling me at this time of day? And on a Sunday, no less!
So I crawled out of bed and grabbed the phone from my “desk.” Didn’t recognize the number. Whatevs, I’ll check my voicemail later. And I crawled back into bed.
Only the phone rang again about ten minutes later.
What the fuck, dude? Why are you calling me repeatedly?Jjust leave me a fucking voicemail if it’s so important.
The phone rang again a few minutes later; only it was someone else. Rang again literally the very next minute, from that same wrong number. By this point, I was not just groggy, but also pissed.
And yet again ten more minutes later from the original number. And a minute after that.
*sigh*
They never did leave a voicemail, and the phone hasn’t rung again the rest of the day. Things like this are why I would get rid of the blasted thing if I thought it would do me any good.
The end.
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Tags: cell phone, i hate the phone, people don't actually *listen* do they?, phones
lizzie borden took her axe.... 
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