I’d been trying to get hold of one of my doctors about some prescriptions. Like a lot of doctor’s offices, I had to leave a message and hope that someone would call back.
A day later, as I’m sitting on the throne at work, my cell phone started ringing. The caller ID told me that it was the office of the aforementioned doctor.
There are some folks who are comfortable with chatting on the phone while taking care of business. I’m not one of them.
The ringing of my phone made me frantically push things on the phone to make it stop.
The ringing finally stopped. I thought “Thank gosh! I got the phone to decline the call.”
As I metaphorically patted my back, I heard a tiny, tinny voice saying “Hello? Hello?”
Poot! I didn’t decline the call – I’d answered the gosh-darned thing. I started frantically stabbing at the bleeping phone desperately trying to hang up. This was accompanied by the tiny, tinny voice calling “Hello”.
It’s a lot more frantic desperate activity than I’d been planning for a trip to the bathroom.