One of the last posts I made before I went on my long, unintentioned hiatus was a review of Jodi Helmer's The Year Green: 365 small things you can do to make a big difference.
It was a good way to go out, had I decided not to return. The Green Year is a great practical guide for people who want to make small changes that help the planet.
It's like a daily almanac or devotional - each day has a small idea or tactic to try out and includes facts about the various environmental concern addressed. A truly simple, genius concept. One I plan to use in guiding me as I plunge ahead into this blog.
Which brings me to March 11th's tip: Upgrade your phone service to include voicemail.
In other words, shit-can your answering machine, Luddites.
Now, I'm biased because I absolutely loathe talking on the phone. I have bad hearing in the first place, so it's just not a technology I am drawn to naturally. I also hate how it interrupts me constantly. It rings and I have to find the damn thing, then put on my happy voice and interact or deal with some issue I'm not interested in tackling at the moment.
Whereas emails or texts do not interrupt me. Both allow me to respond - eloquently, I feel - in my own time, with the particulars right there in print. No message to transcribe, no blathering to suffer through, no waiting for the damn beep.
So I will expand on this, and propose that not only should you upgrade to voicemail, you should get the best data plan you can afford and stop leaving people voicemails. I HATE voicemail. Everyone hates voicemail - getting it or leaving it.
A long, long time ago in a galaxy far away, where people didn't believe in evolution and considered the universe 6000 years old, I had a job with an old-fashioned push button phone with an evil blinking light that indicated I had voice mail. Needless to say, this was a job that gave me a damn ulcer and the people responsible for the blinking light were but one voice in a mighty, incoherent choir of idiocy.
SO. To sum up.
Recycle your answering machine (info here and here.)
Read The Green Year.
Don't leave me messages.
Comments