In what alternate reality is 5:36 am a decent time for people to start making phone calls?
Oh, wait. New York, I guess, because itís already 8:36 am there. And Miami. And Boston and Atlanta and Philadelphia and Baltimore, plus several other places that donít have baseball teams. I guess the calls I started getting at 5:36 this morning could have come from someplace like that.
Not that I answered the phone at 5:36 in the morning. I let the machine pick it up, and there was no one on the line any of the five or eight times it rang while I was still trying to sleep. When it rang after eight, though, I had to answer. And it was a wrong number, and it took me ten minutes to convince the guy that a woman hadnít called asking for an HVAC contractor and left my number. (Well, maybe one did, but it was a mistake.)
This wouldnít have been so bad if it hadnít happened all day yesterday. I could never get any flow to my work because of wrong numbers, hang-ups and telemarketers who would not leave me alone. It got so I groaned every time I heard the phone chirp (not that I donít do that most of the time anyway). I got so many calls asking for ďMiss ChristinaĒ that I started to look around to see if maybe she wasnít here somewhere after all.
My phone voice gradually got louder and louder as the day went on. By the end of the day I had worked myself up enough to hang up on a telemarketer who kept trying to put me through to her ďsupervisorĒ and kept pushing the wrong button when all I wanted to do was get off the line. I finally said, ďThis is ridiculous. I donít have time for this and Iím hanging up now.Ē (She said, ďOkay.Ē Good answer.)