Don't Leave A Message
Hi, sorry I missed your call.
I was busy sitting idly staring into the vortex of my social media feeds while trying to balance the voices in my head that alternate between Josh Charles in Dead Poet's Society: "Gotta do more, Gotta be more!" *noodly noodly sax break* and the crippling sound of my own self worth and identity as a functional, productive member of society leveled at the knees by a world wide pandemic, stuck inside a small box in the sky, debating over frozen quick bread or cookies or 5 layer lasagna for breakfast. A sound I've yet to articulate outside of a primal yawp. More of a constant hum and giddy-up stutter step in my chest, traveling at light speed whenever I dare venture out of doors.
Where's your mask, where's your mask, WHERE IS YOUR MASK.
Something like that, if truth be told.
So yes, I was home, just didn't feel like taking your call.
A call made out of the blue from a stranger acquaintance I've not heard from for decades asking for help with something specific and technical and so far outside my scope of practice in this life as we know it that I'm curious as to how I could even respond, outside of I Have No Idea.
Coupled with the cursory, and How Are You Doing During All Of This?
I need to change my outgoing message.
I'm still here.
If you need something from me, go elsewhere.
Send up a flare, light a flag on fire, throw rocks at my windshield as you pass by on the highway.
Anything but calling. There's no room in my amygdala for idle chat right now. My emotional bandwidth is tapped out.
Here's the beep.
You know what to do.
I was busy sitting idly staring into the vortex of my social media feeds while trying to balance the voices in my head that alternate between Josh Charles in Dead Poet's Society: "Gotta do more, Gotta be more!" *noodly noodly sax break* and the crippling sound of my own self worth and identity as a functional, productive member of society leveled at the knees by a world wide pandemic, stuck inside a small box in the sky, debating over frozen quick bread or cookies or 5 layer lasagna for breakfast. A sound I've yet to articulate outside of a primal yawp. More of a constant hum and giddy-up stutter step in my chest, traveling at light speed whenever I dare venture out of doors.
Where's your mask, where's your mask, WHERE IS YOUR MASK.
Something like that, if truth be told.
So yes, I was home, just didn't feel like taking your call.
A call made out of the blue from a stranger acquaintance I've not heard from for decades asking for help with something specific and technical and so far outside my scope of practice in this life as we know it that I'm curious as to how I could even respond, outside of I Have No Idea.
Coupled with the cursory, and How Are You Doing During All Of This?
I need to change my outgoing message.
I'm still here.
If you need something from me, go elsewhere.
Send up a flare, light a flag on fire, throw rocks at my windshield as you pass by on the highway.
Anything but calling. There's no room in my amygdala for idle chat right now. My emotional bandwidth is tapped out.
Here's the beep.
You know what to do.
Oh how I hope you do change your message to THAT! ;-)
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