Once more via Insty, I see this little exposition:
Confession: I’m really bad at replying to messages. Sometimes it takes me days, even weeks, to get back to people. I constantly find myself typing out some variation of the words sorry for not getting back to you sooner, oops sorry I completely missed this, hey sorry I thought I replied! It’s an endless cycle: feel pressured to reply, feel guilty for not doing it, procrastinate, feel worse the longer I wait, finally apologise, they respond—and then I do it all over again.
I’ve tried to be better. I’ve made countless New Year’s Resolutions to respond quicker, set myself strict rules to always reply the same day, even added texting people back to my to-do list. Nothing works. But lately I’ve been wondering if that’s because there’s a problem with me, or if it’s this expectation to always be available, to be instantly accessible, that’s the problem.
Because it turns out I’m not alone in this.
You bet you aren’t. I’m in the same camp, albeit for slightly different reasons. I get a ton of email messages each day, mostly junk / spam / phishing but also a lot from Readers. The latter are all welcome, always; but as for the former, may they and their entire families suffer the fate of Julius Caesar and be killed by their associates.
I’m worse on the phone — unless it’s from immediate family, either actual calls, or else text / WhatsApp. Here again, I love this Caller ID thing, because if it’s not a number I recognize, or doesn’t appear on my phone book, it’s utterly ignored. (Some people miss the old days when the phone — landline, Princess — rang and you answered it. I don’t. Even back then, if I didn’t feel like answering the call, I wouldn’t. I figured that if the news was that urgent, they’d call me again immediately; and if not, well, c’est la vie.)
I think I’ve mentioned before that back when I was flying out of Chicago at least once a week, I loved that “alone” time, whether at the airport or on the plane itself. It gave me a chance to think, to plan, to dream… you know, what men did before some fucking intrusive electronic thing screamed in your ear 24/7, demanding IMMEDIATE ATTENTION!
Somehow, businesses survived without being in constant contact with bosses and subordinates. When I was a manager with staff, I would tell them that if I was unreachable but a decision had to be made, to make the best decision they could, and I’d back them. Or they could talk to my boss and ask him, if the decision was that important. (90% of the time, it wasn’t, as I would discover later that day when I’d call in from my hotel room or from the client’s office.) Not only did I tell them to make a decision, I’d encourage it, to help with their personal growth in the company. I think that in over 20 years, they made maybe one questionable decision, and the fact that I cannot remember any details now just goes to show that it wasn’t that important. No matter how much companies think that such things are life-and-death matters, they pretty much aren’t; and as one of my bosses once remarked, “There’s no business decision that can’t be made tomorrow,” and in fact most times it’s even better to sleep on it before deciding.
So I often disconnect from the world. Unless I’m expecting a critical call from New Wife or my kids, I don’t freak out if I’m at the grocery store and discover I’ve forgotten my phone at home (which I often do). If I’m in bed and the phone rings, I won’t get up to answer it — once again, if it’s that important, my family knows to call again immediately to get a response from me. (Corollary: I never take the phone to bed with me; it stays in the living room next to my laptop. The only time I fetch it is on Saturday mornings — when I spend most of the day in bed with New Wife — just in case one of the kids or my sister wants to chat. And that’s after I wake up and made the morning coffee.)
Yeah, I’m mostly disconnected from the world when I don’t feel like “interacting”. When I’m at my desk and on the laptop, however, an email message from an acquaintance will often be answered immediately, unless I’m working through the backlog from the night before.
I value my privacy, and I’m at the stage of my life when I’m at the beck and call of nobody except of those I choose to be: a number that is frighteningly small.
I have learned that the world, such as it is, is best kept at arm’s length.