Missed Calls

Usually, by the third missed call, I have Law & Order crime scenes playing out in my head. That’s what technology has done to me. It’s made me think that if my parents/siblings/friends do not answer their phones in a timely manner, only the most horrifying things could be happening to them. Usually it’s “I forgot to charge my phone” or “I’m in class” or “I’m in a meeting.” But for the whole gut wrenching, ulcer inducing 30 minutes, I can’t do anything but worry. It’s irrational. 

Same with Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. It’s created a whole new etiquette for human behavior. If you are a regular tweeter or selfie taker or Facebook activist poster, your words become like internet white noise. But if you go a week or two weeks without posting, people might start to worry. (If nobody worries, you might want to reconsider the validity of your internet presence.) So now, perhaps it’s common courtesy to let people know “Hey, I’m taking an internet fast, don’t worry I’m not dead.” Even though when people do that now, they might as well be jumping up and down saying “Me, me! I’m important, notice me!” 

Also, can I just say that I know more guys that eat yogurt than girls? I can’t with these commercials where women so happily indulge in a giant, goopy spoonful of yogurt as if it really tastes like Key Lime Pie. Give me. A Break. 

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